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Oliver ft Boyd* Printers, Edinburgh. 




APRIL 1820. 

Vol. VII. 


Chantrey, Sculptor* 

The Wankr. No VL— Speech of the 
Right Hob. George Canning, at the 
LaTopool Dinner, giren in Celebra- 
tion of his Re-election »»■ m* ii«iii»»i.i 11 

Letters of a Liberal Whig. No III 21 

Selections from the St Priest MSS. Noll. 85 
The Rapf of Piu s eiproc . . ■ ■ —«* — » — —«»—■ 88 
On Songs and Song Writers , 38 

EKBSS *mmm0m*ma»*m*m— *•—*——— —mem*—— m—— 90 

A winter Morning . « ——--■...■,,— <» 96 

Moods of the Mind. 
No I. 

No III. The Isle of Despair— A 

YUUD «— — ■ »«■<■ — ■ ■»>»«■ <« — «.»» — — ID. 

RmJIfrrkms. No (V_Mark Macta- 
bin, the Cameroman. Adfenture with 


Letter, from a Proprietor of St Andrew's 
Square, relative to the Proposed Mo- 

fiar iXVd McItHM ;nmmmm»*m Bo 

Professor Brown's Outlines of the Philo- 
sophy of the Human Mind 68 

Stanzas, written upon Robert, the Son 
of Captain & Shaw, of the Royal Ar- 
tillery, now a resident in the East In- 
ches—* child five years of age ; by 
James dossier, Bag. 78 

Hone Danicss. No L— Hakon Jarl— A 
Tragedy ; by Adam Oehlenschlagex. 73 

a no v¥aroer. no v iii»» <»»— —— — m»«mw»w»w» vo 



INTELLIGENCE*.**— ——.>».»- »»»-10S 

Works prepakiko for Pubucatioit 105 
Monthly List or Nsw Publics- 




Co mm erc ia l Report .,...,.. — ..,....,..— ...... . 1 10 

eport mm 
I Report. 

Met eorolog ic a l Re p ort— — ~— .- — , — ...— .113 
Promotions and Appointments,. ........ ....115 

Births* Marriages* and Deaths ..«. »» « 1 18 



To whom OnmmmUaiiont (pottjtaid) may he addressed. 


[0L1TXR & BOTD, Prmiirtf Edmhurgh.] 



No XXXVII. APRIL 1880. Vol. VII. 


A mam of genius and taste, Gray the self in making resemblances of various 
poet, lamented that bis native country objects in clay, and to this employ- 
Bad made no advance in sculpture, ment he was much attached. But his 
TVu reproach has been removed, and affection thus early shown for art was 
removed too by a masterly hand, but a matter of amusement — he cal- 
These who wish to trace the return culated as little of the scope it present- 
of English sculpture from the foreign ed to the ambition of genius, as he was 
artificial and allegorical style, to its unconscious that it was the path which 
natural and original character — from nature had prepared for his fame, 
cold and conceited fiction to tender The day named for commencing his 
and elevated truth, will find it chief* new profession arrived, and with the 
ly in the history of Francis Chantrey usual eagerness of youth for novelty, 
and his productions. Of him, and of he reached Sheffield a full hour soon- 
them, we shall try to render some ao- er than his friends had appointed to 
count. For it is instructive to follow meet him. As he walked up and 
the progress of an original and power- down the street, expecting their 
fixl mind, from the mdeness of its coming, his attention was attracted by 
early conceptions, till it comes forth some figures in the window of one 
with native and unborrowed might in Ramsay, a carver and gilder. He 
creations of grace, and beauty, and stopped to examine them, and was not 
dignity. without those emotions which original 

Francis Chantrey was born at Nor- minds feel in seeing something conge* 
ton, a small village on the borders of nial. He resolved at once to become 
Derbyshire, on the 7th of April, 1789. an artist; and perhaps, even then, 
His ancestors were in respectable if associated his determination with those 
not opulent circumstances, and some ideas and creations of beauty from 
heritable poss essi ons still belong to the which his name is now inseparable, 
family. He was deprived of his father Common wonder is fond of attributing 
very early in life, and being an only the first visible impulse of any extra* 
child, wsa educated by his mother ordinary mind to some wngnW dr- 
with abundance of tenderness and soli- cumstance, but nothing can be better 
eitude. He attended the school at Nor- authenticated than the fact which de- 
ton — but of his progress there, we have cided the destiny of his talents. What 
been unable to obtain any particular his friends thought of his sudden re- 
account. Education and agriculture solution it is useless to inquire— we 
shared his time between them till his have heard that they did not condole 
seventeenth year; and a farmer's edu- with him, like the illustrious Bums 
cation is not always the most liberal, over the pursuits of Fergusson : 
About this time ne became weary of " Thy atorious parte 

the pursuits of his forefathers, and re- IB suited laws dry musty arts." 

solved to study the law under a re- The labours in which Ramsay em- 
apectable solicitor at Sheffield. Who- ployed him were too limited rar his 
ther this wsa his own choice or that of powers; his hours of leisure were there- 
his relations we have not learned, and fore dedicated to modelling and draw- 
it matters not, for another destiny ing, and he always preferred copying 
awaited him. To accident, we owe nature. He had no other idea or style 
much of what we are willing to attri- but that with which nature supplied 
bate to our wisdom ; and, certainly to him — he had his own notions of art 

Ere accident, we owe whatever de- and of excellence to rough-hew for 
ht we have received from the pro- himself, and the style and character 
Auctions of Mr Chantrey. he then formed, he pursues with suc- 

During the hours of intermission cess now. These we have learned 
from labour at the fans, and imtmo were much more pleasant spe^a&om 
lion at the school, hehad»muacdbim<* to him than to Ramsay, who, inccnst& 
Vol. VII. A 

4 Francis Chantry, Sculptor* [[April 

either at the enthusiasm with which of combining the conceptions of genius 
they were followed, or the success with with the niceties of acquired skill, 
which they were executed, defaced The march therefore of the sculptor 
them, and ordered all such labours to to distinction is a long one—- and with 
be discontinued in future. For this much of this mechanical knowledge 
conduct, it is difficult to find either an Mr Chantrey had to become acquaint- 
excuse or a parallel. But true genius, ed when he went to London. He had 
no power on earth can keep back — it also, other obstacles to surmount— the 
will work its way to distinction through artificial and unnatural style imported 
all the obstructions of folly or envy, from Italy and France, and which 
It lores to expatiate in secrecy over had been supported by the ablest 
its ftiture plans — it contemplates its Sculptors of England, 
growing powers with silent joy, and Our sculpture, till lately, never 
prepares to come forth on the world, sought to free itself from the absurdi- 
in the fulness of might and the fresh- ties and allegorical subtleties of the fo- 
ness of beauty. reign school. Nature was working 
It is related at Sheffield, that during her own free way with art, and work- 
the intervals of ordinary labour, Mr ing successfully, till our literature, as 
Chantrey was not to be found annus- well as our sculpture, was overwhelm- 
ing himself like other young men — ed by a flood which accompanied 
that he retired to his lodgings, and Charles II. to his throne. Art then 
light might be seen in his window at fell off from reflecting nature — began 
midnight—frequently far in the morn- to speak an obscure language — full of 
ing*- and there he might be found dark conceits and remote personifica- 
working at groupes and figures with tions. The common figures of poetry 
tmabated diligence and enthusiasm, or speech were exalted into monumen- 
Of these early efforts, little is visible tal heroes and heroines, illustrated by 
^-except the effect they wrought. It symbols as unintelligible as themselves. 
is said, that his mother took great in- Nor did allegory remain pure and un- 
ferest and delipht in his early produc- mixed— Death was made to extend 
tions ; and this venerable woman en- his figurative dart at the substantial 

eys the unspeakable felicity of living bosom of a lady, whose husband en- 
rejoice in ner son's reputation. dearoured to avert it with an arm of 

He continued nearly three years in flesh. And the conceits of the sculp- 
the employment of Ramsay, and the tor were worse than his allegory — the 
clandestine labours of his leisure hours Duke of Argyle expires on his monu- 
began tQ obtain notice. Judicious ment, while the pen of Fame is writ- 
twmsetiors seldom fall to the lot of ing him Duke of Greenwich — a title 
early genius, and Mr Chantrey found that awaited him, — turning the mo- 
ftienps who. in the warmth of mis- nument of a hero into the record of a 
judging seal, wished to obtrude him contemptible conceit : and these are fit- 
on the world before his talents were vourable specimens, 
matured, or his hand or his mind dis- On s mind unschooled in the con- 
dplinecL Others, of more discernment, ceited pedantries of art> the impres- 
confirmed him in hip natural and cor- aion must have been curious and be- 
rect notions of art, and directed his wildering. Art must not pretend to 
enthusiasm. Among the latter, was instruct nature^-what is not of nature 
Raphael Smith— himself a man of no cannot be of art— nothing better can 
common talents. He soon discovered be found to be imitated, and those who 
that the young artist's powers to excel wish to excel can only collect the 
In art equalled his. ambidon-^-and he members of beauty together which na- 
encouraged him to pursue the attain- ture has scattered over creation. The 
ment or excellence; fpr in sculpture, true beau-ideal is only a speculation of 
as in poetry and painting, no one is man on the perfection of nature — its 
charmed with mediocrity, though all beauty must be tried by nature, and 
are doomed to endure it. by her permission must it stand, or 

Sculpture ia a profession infinitely by her sentence it must fall. Our 

more laborious than painting, depend- poetry, our philosophy, and our ac- 

Ing csj sl)ape and expression for its tions, reflect the might, and the bold 

fkschsiftori demanding an acquaint- and peculiar character of the people. 

ssfSj) not only with varied nature — but Should the nation pass away, ner 

w&h curious and delicate mechanical works and her deeds will always com- 

fjpentbm, and with that rare talent mand admiration and awe, and will 


1*90l3 FrtuebChanirq, Sculptor. * 

tell to future ages the national mind to the living image, and the power tad 
sod the national might Sculpture a- case with which the character ii ex* 
lone hai refused to receive this itrong pressed, the free and unconstrained at- 
sad original stamp—it speaks with no titude, have been often remarked and 
native tongue, it wears no native garb, acknowledged. In this department of 
It grows not out of our nrinds and art his earliest boats placed him be- 
fools, nor does it daim limb or lines- yond rivalship, and there he k Hketjr 
ment of the heroic islanders. to continue. His name and his works 

In his twentieth year, Mr Chan- were already known beyond the limits 
trey purchased the remainder of his of London, when he became the sue* 
engagement from Ramsay, and these- cessful candidate for a statue of George 
psration gave matnal pleasure. In the III. for that city. Competition a m on g 
month of May 1809, no went to Lon- artists in finished works is the fob race 
dan, and began to apply himself with of reputation, and public criticism 
ardent diligence to the study of sculp- compels genius to finish her labonn 
tore. Bat those who expect this ar- with an elegant and scrupulous exact* 
door to continue unabated moat con- ness. Not so with sketches and draw- 
sent to be disappointed, for in June ings. Simplicity is the presiding star 
the same year, we find him on his of ait— a simple design has a mean 
way to Dublin, resolved to make a look, and a man may make imposing 
tour through Ireland and Scotland, sketches on paper, who haa not the 
With his motives for thia journey, we capacity to follow them to finished eX- 
proness not to be acquainted ; these are cellence. Gentlemen, whether of the 
not regions eminent for the produc- city or the plain, may be imposed up- 
uonsor art, and likely to attract young; on by handsome sketches, ss FlueUan 
trusts. A dangerous fever arrested was by the valour of ancient Pistol ;*— 
Ins p rog icss at Dublin, and he did not " He spoke aa brave words, look you, 
eaurely recover till the ensuing sum- aa a man would wish to hear on a 
aer. Hie illness cured him of lore for summer day." In truth, genius must 
traveling ; lie returned to London in feel reluctance at thus measuring its 
tmtasm, and, with his return, his might in the dark with inferior minds, 
studies were recommenced. and the field of adventure is usually 

Hk application was great, and his occupied either by men of moderate or 

rest waa rapid and visible. He dubious merit, or youths, who are 

already conceived the character of willing to risk a chance for distinction, 

his works, and wanted only opportu- Thus an inferior hand haa been per* 

mty to invest them with their present mitted to profane the dust of theiUus- 

truthand tenderness. One of his ear- trious Robert Burns. A statue of the 

best works is a boat of his friend, Rav inspired peasant from the haml of bisftUi 

phsel Smith, created with a felicity at low-plowman, Chan trey, was what hie 

mat time rare in bust sculpture. Sur- feme deserved, and what Scotland, had 

rounded, as it now is, with the busts she consulted her feme, would have 

of more eminent men, it is usually given. 

singled out by strangers as a produc- A curious circumstance had nearly/ 

tJon of particular merit. Akin to this deprived London of the fine statue of 

is hk bust of Home Tooke, to which the king. To the study of sculpture, 

he haa communicated an expression of it seems Mr Chantrey had added that 

keen penetration and clear-sighted aa- of painting, and some of his pictures 

pcity. A colossal head of Satan be- are still to be found : of their merits, 

tags to this period ; and, in the at- we are unable, from personal inspec- 

tempt to invest this fearful and undo- tion to speak, but we have been told, 

fined fiend with character and form, by one well qualified to judge, that 

he haa by no means less e ned bis own they do his sculpture no discredit, 

reputation. Eclipsed, as it is now, His pencil portraits are esteemed by 

with mom cele b r ate d works, its gsxe many aa admirable aa his busts, and 

of dark and -»■!%"■»* dorpair never are still more difficult to be obtained* 

escapee notion, When he presented his design for the 

So m e time in 1810, he fixed his re- king's statue, it waa approved of in 

sidence in Pimlico, and constructed a preference to others, but a member of 

study of very modest dimensions. The the Common Council observed, that 

absolute nature and singular felicity of the successful artist was a painter, and 

his busto procured him immediate and therefore incapable of executing the* 

extensive tmj li jw e mt. Their fidelity work of a sculptor. SteWfttiaxnCta* 


6 Frmuis Chamtrty, Sculptor. [April 

tig said* " You hear this, young sum, posed over it in a more delicate man- 

what say vow— are yon a painter or a ner— bat the general resemblance was 

sculptor.' — " I live by sculpture," not rendered more perfect. His bust 

was the reply, and the statue was im- of the lady at a Scottish judge belongs 

mediately confided to Jus hand*— * to this period— Nature tarnished mm 

statue of equal ease and dignity will with a beautiful form, and his art 

not readily be found. reflects back Nature. 

He had made some progress in this On his return from Scotland, he was 
work, when he was employed by Mr employed by the government to exe- 
Johnes of Hafbd, the accomplished cute monuments for St Pauls, in rnei 
translator of Froisssrt, to make a mo* mory of Colonel Cadogan and General 
wiment — a very extensive one— in me- Bowes, aud afterwards of General Gil- 
mory of his only daughter. This was a lespie. These subjects are embodied 
congenial task, and confided to his in a manner almost strictly historical, 
hands under circumstances honourable and may be said to form portions of 
to English sculpture. It has long been British history. Though the walls of 
finished, and is a production of beauty our churches are encumbered with mo- 
and tenderness— « scene of domestic numents in memory of our warriors, 
sorrow exalted by meditation. Invert- no heroes were ever so unhappy. 
tion does not consist in investing ab- Sculptors have lavished their bad taste 
street ideas with human form — in con- in the service of government. Fame, 
fining substance on an empty shade— and valour, and wisdom, and Britan- 
or in creating forms, unsanctioned by nia, are the eternal vassals of mono- 
human belief, either written or tradi- tonous art. A great evil in allegory is 
tionaL Much genius has been squan- the limited and particular attributes of 
dered in attempting to create an ele- each figure—each possesses an un- 
gant and intelligible race of allegorical changeable vocation, and this proserin- 
beings, but for the want of human belief tion hangs over them as a spelL The 
in their existence, the absence of flesh art, too, of humble talents is apt to 
and blood, nothing can atone. No one evaporate in allegory— it is less diffi- 
ever sympathised with the grief of cult to exaggerate than be natural, and 
Britannia, or shared their feelings with vast repose is obtained among the di- 
that cold, cloudy, and obscure genera- vinities of abstract ideas. Simple na- 
tion. Mr Chantrey's talents refuse all ture, in ungifted hands, looks degrad- 
intercaurso with this figurative and ed and mean; but a master-spirit 
iroaen race. works it up at once into tenderness 
. A statue of President Blair, a judge and majesty. 

of singular capacity and penetration, Amid a wide increase of business, 
and a statue of the late Lord Melville, Mr Chantrey omitted no opportunity 
were required for Edinburgh, and Mr of improving his talents and nis taste. 
Chantrey was employed to execute In 18 J 4, he visited Paris, when the 
them* . He has acquitted himself with Louvre was filled with the plundered 
great felicity. The calm, contempla- sculptures of Italy, and admired, in 
tive, and peuetrating mind of Blair as common with all mankind, the grace, 
visibly expressed in the marble. It the beauty, and serene majesty of 
mutt be difficult to work with a poet's these wonderful works. Of the works 
eye in productions which the artist's of the French themselves, his praise 
own mind has not selected and couse- was very limited. In the succeeding 
crated. During his stay in Scotland, year he paid the Louvre another visit, 
he modelled a bust of the eminent during the stormy period of its occu- 
PJayfair, in which he appears to have nation by the English and Prussians, 
hit off the face and intellect of the He was accompanied by Mrs Chant- 
man— and they were both remarkable rey, and his intimate friend, Stothard 
ones— at one heat Many artists ob- the painter. He returned by the wav 
tain their likenesses by patient and of Rouen, and filled his sketch-book 
frequent retouchings — Mr Chantrey ge- with drawings of the pure and impres- 
nerally seizes on the character in one sive Gothic architecture of that an- 
hour's work. Once, and but once on- cient city. It has been said that ac- 
ly, we saw a bust on which he had be- quaintance with the divine works of 
stowed a single hour ;~ *he likeness Greece dispirits rather than encourages 
was roughed out of the clay with the a young artist. Images of other men's 
happiest fidelity and vigour. We saw, perfections are present to his mind — 
too, the&nubed work— his hand had ideas of unattainable excellence damp 

USD.] Francis Ckantrcy, Sculptor. T 

ha odour; and the power of imagin- ful grandeur of his character. A tab* 
jag ■— Hthing noble end original » ject selected from Christian belief ia 
•sallowed up in the contemplation, worthy of a Christian people. A 
TsJSBsaj be true of second-rate minds; guardian angel, a just man made per* 
■at the master-spirits rise up to an feet, must be dearer to us than all die 
esaatity of rank, and run die race of dumb^pds of the heathens. They ex- 
cxeelkence in awe, and with ardour, ist in our faith and our feeling— we 
French sculpture pr ofit e d little by the belieTe they watch over us, and will 
assurable models which the sweeping welcome our translation to a happier 
otbioon of Bonaparte reft from other state. But the gods of the Greeks 
UDsns. The inordinate vanity of the have not lived in superstition these 
sarion, and the pride of the reigning eighteen hundred years. We do not feel 
taily, encourage d sculpture to an un- for them — we do not love them, nei- 
bailed extent Yet with all the fe* ther do we fear them. What is Jupi- 
wnsh impatience for distinction which ter to us, or we to Jupiter. They are 
rendered that reign remarkable, not a not glorious by association with Para- 
angle figure was created that deserves dise, like our angels of light—* nor ter- 
si to down to posterity. The French rible, like those of darkness. We are 
lave no conception of the awful repose neither inspired by their power, nor 
sad majesty or the ancient figures, and elevated by their majesty. Revelling 
into native grace and simple elegance among forgotten gods has long been the 
thty never deviate. Their grave and reproach of sculptors. The Christian 
samit matrons are the tragic dames world has had no Raphaels in marble, 
sf the drama, and their virgins the A devotional statue of Lady St Vin- 
asadng damsels of the opera. cent is a work created in the artist's 

On Mr Chantrey's return from happiest manner. The figure is kneel- 
Tisnee, he modelled his famous group ing — the hands folded in resignation 
af Children, now placed in Licnfield over the bosom — the head gently and 
Cathedral, and certainly a work more meekly bowed, and the face impressed 
tsporite to the foreign style could not deeply with the motionless and holy 
vol be imagined. The sisters lie composure of devotion. All attempt 
astep in each other's arms, in the at display is avoided: — a simple and no- 
ne* unconstrained and graceful re- gligent drapery covers the figure. It is 
poa?; the snow-drops, which the young- now placed hi the chancel of Cavera- 
e* aad plucked, are undropped from well-church, in Staffordshire, 
bar hand. Never was sleep, and mno- Along with many other productions, 
ceit and artless beauty, more happily his next important work was a statue 
enmsed. It is a lovely and a fearful of Louisa Russel, one of the Duke of 
tang to look on those beautiful and Bedford's daughters. The child stands 
breathless images of death. They were on tiptoe, with delight fondling a dove 

ted in the exhibition by the side of in her bosom, an almost breathing and 
Hebe and Terphsicore of Canova— moving image of arch-simplicity and 
the goddesses obtained few admirers innocent grace. It is finished with the 
compared to them. So eager was the same felicity in which it is conceived, 
am to see them, that a look could The truth and nature of this figure 
set always be obtained— mothers stood was proved, had proof been necessary, 
ever mem and wept; and the deep by a singular incident A child of 
Bnptesriou they made on the public three years old came into the study of 
■rind must be permanent the artist — it fixed its eyes on the 

A work of such pathetic beauty, and lovely marble child — went and held 
finahed with such exquisite skill, is up its hands to the statue, and called 
as unusual sight, and its reward was aloud and laughed with the evident 
as eoBunon one. The artist received hope of being attended to. This figure 
▼srisss orders for poetic figures and is now at Woburn-abbey, in company 
pvns, and the choice of the subject with a group of the Graces from the 
*a left to bis own judgment Such chisel of Canova. 
awsisnons are new to English sculp- Many of Mr Chantrey's finest busts 
toft. The work selected for Lord belong to this period. His head of 
Epenont has been made publicly John Rennie, the civil-engineer, is by 
known—* colossal figure of Satan : many reckoned his masterpiece; and we 
^Aetchhasbeensometimefinished; have heard that the sculptor seems not 
aaT «e may toon expect to see the unwilling to allow it that mfcrence. 
: — '"* with the visible und aw* Naturally it is a head of e\utanX sxltffc* 

S Francis Chatting, Sculptor. Opril 

aire capacity end thought, and to ex- him make something very like such an 
pitas these the artist has had his gifted admission himself. But the subject* 
moments. A head of the great Watt, though an eminent and venerable roan, 
la of the same order. is by no means so interesting as that 

Sometime in the year 1818, he was of the famous Two Children. The 
made a member of the Royal Society, very circumstances of the untimely 
a member of the Society of Antique- death of two such innocent and lovely 
ries, and finally a member of the i Royal beings, is deeply affecting, and the 
Academy. To the former he presented power of association, a matter for me* 
a marble bust of their president, Sir ditatipn to all artists, is too strong for 
Joseph Banks — a work of much power the statue, admirable as that produc- 
and felicity; and to the latter he gave, tion is. In the same year, he placed 
as the customary admission proof d the statues of Blair and Melville in 
senilis, a marble bust of Benjamin Edinburgh, and was treated by the 
West The tardy acknowledgment people of Scotland with great kindness 
of his talents, by the Royal Academy, and distinction, 
has been the frequent subject of con- In the following' year, he made m 
yersation and surprise. Institutions journey, which he had long meditaU 
to support or reward the efforts of ge- ed, through Italy. Rome, Venice, 
nius may be salutary ; for they can and Florence, were the chief places of 
cherish what they cannot create ; but attraction ; but he found leisure to 
they seem to take away the charm or examine the remains of art in many 
spell of inspiration which artists are places of lesser note. He returned 
presumed to share in common with through France, and arrived in Lon- 
poeta. The magic of art seems re- don, after an absence of eighteen 
duced to the level of a better kind of weeks. Of the works of Canova, he 
manufactory, in which men serve an speaks and writes with a warmth and 
apprenticesnip, and try to study an admiration he seeks not to ennmri. 
'• The art unteachable untaught" Ge- These two gifted artists are on the 
nius too, is wayward, and its directors most friendly terms, " Above all 
may be capricious — they may be wed- modern art in Rome," he thus writes 
ded to some particular system— may to a friend, " Canova's works are the 
wish to lay the line and level of their chief attractions. His latter produo- 
own tastes, and their own works, to tions are of a far more natural and 
those of more gifted minds, and by pe- exalted character than his earlier 
dantic and limited definitions of sculp- works; and his fame is wronged by 
tare, confine their honours to those his masterly statues which are now 
- who worship their rules. They were common in England. He is excelling 
•low in honouring their academy ; and in simplicity and in grace every day* 
in all the compass of art, they could An Endyimon for the Duke of Devon- 
not have admitted one who deserved shire, a Magdalen for Lord Liverpool, 
it more, or who needed it less, than and a Nymph are his latest works and 
Francis Chantrey. his best. There is also a noble equea- 

In 1818, he produced the statue of trian statue of the King of Naples—- 
Dr Anderson, which, for unaffected the revolutions of its head have kept 
ease of attitude, and native and un- pace with those of the kingdom. A 
borrowed and individual power of poet in Rome has published a book of 
thought, has been so much admired, bonnets, on Canova's works, each pro- 
The figure is seated, and seems in duction has its particular sonnet— of 
deep and grave meditation. When their excellence I can give you no in- 
we look at the statues of this artist, formation." 

we think not of art, but of nature. Such is the account given by our 
Constrained and imposing theatrical illustrious Englishman, of the produc- 
postures, make no part of his taste. — tions of the famous Roman ; but there 
All his figures stand or sit with ana- is a kindness, a generosity, an extreme 
tural and dignified ease ; and they tenderness about the minds of men of 
are all alike remarkable for the truth high genius, when they sneak of the 
and felicity of their portraits, and the works of each other, which must not 
graceful simplicity of their garb. The glow on the page of stern and candid 
statue of Anderson has been esteemed criticism. The chara ct er of Canova's 
by many as the most masterly of all works seems neither very natural nor 
his large works ; and we have heard original. What Phidias and the im- 



IWj Prmcu Chcmirty, Sector. 9 

aaalalactdpfenofGreeeesawinsun- and their powers are essentially dif- 
stise, he eeea In twilight— hii art ia ferent, and widely remoTed from each 
aanly reflected back from the light of other. Canova seeks to revive the 
t ages. Hie Grecian beauty and might and beauty of Greek art on 
which he has chosen for his earth— the art of Chantrey is a pure' 
he aeea through the eyes of emanation of English genius— a style 
jen— lie cannot conteufplate without transcript or imitation— re* 
Knag, die very excellence he seeks to sembKng the ancients no more than 
attain. Of tie meek austere com- the wild romantic dramas of Shak- 
ire of ancient art, he seems to feel speare resemble the plays of Euripi- 
little, and that late in life— he re- dee, or the heroes of Walter Scott's 
i from the awful front of Jupiter, chivalry, the heroes of heathen song, 
to pipe with Apollo among the flocks It seeks to personify the strength and 
af AAanetaa. Though with the severe the beauty of the " mighty island." 
sal the majestic, he has limited ae- From them both the Dane differs, and 
•atmtance— with the graceful* the we are sensible of a descent, and a 
wane, and the soft, he seems partjeu- deep one, when we write his name, 
fay intimate, and this, though a high, He has not the Bowerful tact of epe- 
■ but a recent acquirement. His culating on ancient and departed ex- 
earlier works are all infected with the cellenee like the Roman — nor has he 
uWarieal or affected styles— every fi- the native might, and grace, and un- 
gate strains to make the moat of the borrowed vigour of the Englishman in 
nates of its person. He was polluted hewing out a natural and noble style 
•V his in t erco u rse with the French, of bis own. The group of the graces 
He sau n a not s aeulptor by the grace which he modelled in feverish emula- 
sf God alone, but has become etni- tion of those of Canova, measure out 
sat by patient study and reflection, the immense distance between them ; 
The character of his works lives not they are a total failure, and below me- 
h nving nature, he deals with the diocrity. His figure of the Duke of 
fcori-gode, and seems ambitious to Bedford's daughter ia unworthy of the 
leasee the lost etatues of older Greece company of her sister Louisa by 
to naar pedestals He looks not on na- Chantrey. He studies living nature, 
tsw and revealed religion as Raphael but with no poet's eye. 
leaked he has no intense and passion- Of the impressions which the works 
a* feeling for the heroes or the hero- of Michael Angelo made on our Eng- 
iaei of wKom lasso sung so divinely— lishman, we may be expected to say 
se seeks not to embody the glorious something— it would be unwise to be 
lasts of the Christian frith. He has silent, yet what we have to say must 
» various of aiigels ascending and de- be of a mixed kind; we have to speak 
soendmg — he feels for a race which of great excellencies and grievous' 
ftfsaok the world when the cross was faults. Of the powers of this wonder- 
seen on Calvarv, and he must be con- ful man the world ia fully sensible, 
tost to feel alone. He has no twi- but he seems always to have aspired . 
tight visitations from the muse of mo- at expressing too much— grasping at 
asm beauty. The softness, the sweet* unattainable perfections beyond the 
nan, and grace of his beat works have power of his art He wished to em- 
bmfeUejid echoed by alL His Hebe body and impress the glowing, the 
a buoyant and sylphlike, but not mo- sublime, and extensive associations of 
drat "With anch a loose look and air, poetry, and waa repulsed by the limits 
sat never had dared to deal ambrosia of art, and the grossness of his mate- 
ansttg the graver divinities. The rials. Amid all his grandeur he has 
Cawdor Hebe came from the hands constrained elevations, and with all 
of Canova, with her cheeks vermilion- his truth, an exaggeration of the hu- 
ei Hie statue of Madame Mere, the man form, which he mistook for 
nether of Napoleon, ia a work of great strength. He waa remarkably ardent 
merit easy and dignified ; and his and impatient ; few of his works are 
eolonal statue of Buonaparte, now in finished. A new work presented it- 
Anuey-house, aspires to the serene self to his restless imagination, and he. 
majesty of the antique* left an hero with his hand or his foot 
It ia customary to couple the names for ever in the block, to relieve the 
of Canova and Cnantrey together, and form of some new beauty of which 
some have not scrupled to add that of his fancy hai.^reamed. Had he, not 
Tfcorweldaen, the Due, Their ttylea aimed at so snOch, he would Yum w> 

ID Fnmeis Chantry Sculptor. £Jkpm*t 

aattpfcahednmr^aadhisBmmewoaJd at her feet, and barks tar feet in 

have gone^ poeWity vrithout abate* a>ish in her parent's robe. Hie 

meat or dmwback. ok is in a forwaid state. 3. A 

Of taw bvtvtiea of Italia* scenery,** of Francis Homer, M« P., for W"< 

well aa those of Italian art, Mr Chan- minster Abbe^-^ production of _ 

trey nade many drawmga— -they are dignity and traDeiul power— is ala*> inr 

executed with great skill and Acuity* marble, and will be finished in 

Those from the martyrdom of St course of the Autumn. **AsJ< 

Stephen are eminently beautiful; the child, the daughter of Sir 

originals are diminutive and little Aclsnd, is a gentle and lovely 

known, tat are inspired with much and equals or surpasses the beauty 

of the serene and divine repose of repose of the famous GhiloVen now lav 

BaphaeL* Lichfield Cathedral 5. Another re. 

We close with reluctance this nasty posing child, the daughter of MrBo*~ 

and imperfect account of our ulus- well of Auchealed^ is a work of great 

trious countryman and his produc* merit. There is a softness and ejiamftv 

tions. We have omitted to notice grace about all the artist's labours ©•? 

some of the peculiar excellencies of hie tins land. 6. A Statue of Genesral 

style, and to mention many of his Washington, fear America, not in aeon— 

works— of numbers and of importance dition for criticism. Canova. has fuunla- 

enough to form a fair reputation of ed a Statue of this eminent person £fer 

themselves. We have confined our* the same country. The yflWpjaUtA 

serves to those with which we are most talent of die English artist in express-* 

conversant. In the conception and in ing grave and vigorous character, will 

the finish of his works, the artist is be doubtless put forth here, 7* A Slaw 

extremely fastidious, and meditates tneof Chief Baren Robert Dimdas* fine 

with a care, and works with a dili- Edinburgh ^-and many Buata of raw 

genee, of which there are too sew ex- markahto meUrandilonumeBtaof im- 

amptas. He is an early mover, and pottanoe. 

asay be sound labouring in summer* Of the) noetic greupes and figure* 

time, before sunrise, on some favour* which he has been manntiasioned ae> 

lie work, nor has he forgot hie early execute, it may be imprudent to apeak* 

and intense application; wish a candle and our inforsnetjosi might be ins sen i 

in the front of his hat, and a chisel sate. Something in the highest poet** 

in his hand, we have seen him at oal walk of sculpture has been long 

midnight, and far in the mornina> expected from his hand; and whethcw 

employed in fiiiiahing some of his he may choose to come bcshre thai 

principal works, t world in the soft and gentle, or in the 

QfwOTksnowinpregress we shall en- dignified and impressive^ it ianaelean 

deavour to give abnefnotiee, LAMo* to ennjeettire* Before the world ho 

nuineut in memory ofDavid P. Waits, wiU come, in a subject of his own 

ofDovedale in Derbyshire; the sub- choice and ejection, and that soon. Ho) 

foot is a hither blessing his children-* k isew modelling the Bust of WaUee 

This extensive work at pertly model* Scott. From the gifted hand we re- 

lod, and promises to become one of the autre she inspired head, and osjacasj* 

noblest productions of has mind-mio- sent to take it from no other. Thia 

ml, pathetic, and exalted. % A Me- is a circumstance we have long desv* 

nuxnent for Mr WUdman of Chilham ed. The u form and pressure of the 

castle is of the same character, though great peet will now remain aav the 

the subject is different A mother re- earth ; and the names of Walter Soatt 

dines en her husband's tomb in settled and Franda Chantnsy will descend to 

and serene sorrow ; her daughter kneels posterity together. 

— ^^^— —i I. ■! i ■, ■■...I * 

• Drawing seams a favourite pastime with this artist The popular tacsom of Mr 
Bhnflri in finr/aMir. in indnMi <1 ftn liiii prtirtl for in nrstillismsiii— isnisetir mum. 
and several ancient and beautiful Saxon crosses. These have been p&ssntsd to the 
author by the artist, from the love be besss to sis native country. 

f The witter of this brief notice once saw a sketch of gseat talent from die hand of the 
late Edward Bird, R. A., in which his friend, Mr Chantxey, is represented employed in 
this nocturnal labour. The light from below shot upwasds on the front of the figure—the 
statue of Louis* Rugsel, and the head and busy hand of the sculptor, were in a manner 
haftseen half-hid. The painter said he made the sketch at midnight, in the study of hi* 
fiiend. He did not live to finish what he had so beautfuftr begun. 

IttOO The Warder. No VI. 11 


N T VI. 

[Oenreaders, we are sure, will be grateful to us for pressing into our service 
•attire Speech delivered bv Mr Canning, at the dinner given in celebration of 
k* re-election as Member for Liverpool. We rejoice in having an opportu- 
ne of giving any additional circulation to a production which, whether we re- 
am the matter or the manner of it, we cannot help regarding as the very mastef- 
■Boe of its illustrious author's genius, — which seems to us to embody by far 
ike most clear, distinct, and philosophical views that have yet been laid before 
aw portion of the British public in regard to the present internal disturbance, 
an uaturbero of our country ;— and which, under the blessing of Divine Pro- 
istaace, may, we would fondly hope, contribute signally and speedily to the 
hi oashlishmrnt of sober reflection and mutual confidence among all orders of 
oe people. The natural effects, indeed, even of the wisdom and the eloquence 
of the greatest and best of men are thwarted and weakened in these days, by the 
EMfWmting persevering spleen with which all such men are persecuted by the 
ban rabble, who have obtruded themselves, in the character of teachers and writ- 
es, an the too credulous ears of by far too great a part of our population : nor, 
saoag all the living statesmen of England, is there -any one who has had to con- 
fend either with so continuous or so foul a stream of this abuse, as the Right 
HoDourable George Canning. None, indeed, have the audacity to deny his talents 
Whig-radical, and Radical- whig, and every organ of vulgar slander, by 
name it is known — all seem, with one unceasing pertinacious spiteful- 
to be leagued together in one common conspiracy of perpetual detraction 
ajanst hia personal character as a politician. And yet, when one looks back to 
to history of this remarkable man's public life, not only does it defy the ut- 
al of all his enemies to find one instance from which any conclusion 
to hia character as a man of honour and principle can possibly be 
—but we venture fearlessly to assert, that of all living English states- 
of all parties, he is the one whose career exhibits the greatest and most 
nenorable sacrifices of personal interest ; and which, to men of his cast, is out 
of all comparison more difficult, of personal feeling and personal pride to the 
parity and firmness of principle. There needs no one to rise from the dead to 
■am us, that of all human objects a clever Tory is to a stupid Whig the 
nut tuftl*'** and essential of abominations. But when one sees by how 
any Whigs, that nobody calls stupid, these absurd and wicked reproaches 
«e ftr ever re-echoed and reiterated, one cannot help feeling some little emo-> 
tan, not of contempt merely, but of astonishment. These men are not aware 
how miserably they are pulling down their own authority, by convincing the 
whole world that their minds are incapable of any sympathy in regard to any one 
natter, either of thought or of feeling, with one, whom every body that reads 
i page of any of his works, knows and feels irresistibly, to be among the most 
atomphahfn and powerful intellects of his age and country,— one, we devout- 
ly believe, of the most upright and honourable men that ever devoted the 
of a great genius to the ill-rewarded toils of British Statesmanship.^ 


At the Liverpool Dinner, given in Celebration of his Re-election. 

GuiTLsif xn,*— Short as the interval applied to it, if not of permanent cure, 

it since I last met you in this place at least of temporary mitigation, 
aa a similar occasion, the events which Gentlemen, with respect to those 

awe filed np that interval have not remedies, I mean with respect to the 

ban unimportant. The great moral transactions of the last short session of 

ontase which we then talked of as Parliament, previous to the dissolu- 

anning ground on the community, tion, I feel that it is my duty, as your 

sat, sue* that period, arrived at its representative, to render to you some 

Bast extravagant height ; and, since account of the part which, 1 Uxfe. m 

that period ala* remedieg here been that assembly to which you sent m*i 
Voi. VJL B 

12 The Warder. No VI. £ April 

I feel it my duty also, as a member of audacious force, especially against the 
the Government by which those mea- House of Commons ?— What is, in 
Hires were advised. Upon occasions these respects, the situation of the 
of such trying exigency as those which country now ? Is there a man of pro- 
we have lately experienced, I hold it perty who does not feel the tenure by 
to be of the very essence of our free which he holds his possessions to have 
and popular Constitution, that an un- been strengthened ? Is there a man of 
reserved interchange of sentiment peace who does not feel his domestic 
should take place between the repre- tranquillity to have been secured ? Is 
sentative and his constituents: and there a man of moral and religious 
if it accidentally happen, that he principles who does not look forward 
who addresses you as your repre- with better hope to see his children 
sentative, stands also in the situation educated in those principles ? who 
of a responsible adviser of the crown, does not hail with renewed confidence 
I recognise in that more rare occur- the revival and re-establishment of 
rence, a not less striking or less valu- that moral and religious sense which 
able peculiarity of that reviled Consti- had been attempted to be obliterated 
tution under which we have the hap- from the hearts of mankind ? 
piness to live ; by which a minister of Well, Gentlemen, and what has in- 
the crown is brought into contact with tervened between the two periods ? A 
the great body of the community ; and meeting of that degraded Parliament, 
the service or the king is shown to be a meeting of that scoffed at and derid- 
a part of the service of the people. ed House of Commons, a concurrence 
Gentlemen, it has been one advan- of those three branches of an imper- 
tage of the transactions of the last Ses- feet constitution, not one of which, if 
sion of Parliament, that while they we are to believe the Radical Reform- 
were addressed to meet the evils which ers, lived in the hearts, or swayed the 
had grown out of charges heaped upon feelings, or commanded the respect of 
the House of Commons, they have also, the nation; but which, despised as 
in a great measure, falsified the charges they were while in a state of separation 
themselves. and inaction, did, by a co-operation of 
I would appeal to the recollection of four short weeks, restore order, confi- 
every man who now hears me, of any dence, a reverence for the laws, and a 
the most careless estimator of public just sense of their own legitimate au- 
sentiment, or the most indifferent spec- thority. 

tator of public events, whether any Another event, indeed, has interven- 
country, in any two epochs, however ed, in itself of a most painful nature, 
distant, of its history, ever present- but powerful in aiding and confirming 
ed such a contrast with itself as this the impressions which the assembling 
country, in November, 1819, and and the proceedings of Parliament 
this country in January 1820 ? What were calculated to produce. I mean 
was the situation of the country in the loss which the nation has sustained 
November, 1819? — Do I exagge- by the death of a Sovereign, with 
rate when I say, that there was not a whose person all that is venerable in 
man of property who did not tremble Monarchy has been identified in the 
for his possessions ? that there was not eyes of successive generations of his 
a man of retired and peaceable habits subjects ; a Sovereign, whose goodness, 
who did not tremble for the tranquillity whose years, whose sorrows and suffer- 
and security of his home ? that there ingB, must have softened the hearts of 
was not a man of orderly and religious the most ferocious enemies of kingly 
principles who did not rear that those power ;— whose active virtues, and the 
principles were about to be cut from memory of whose virtues, when it 
under the feet of succeeding genera- pleased Divine Providence that they 
tions ? Was there any man who did should be active no more, have been 
not apprehend the Crown to be in the guide and guardian of his people 
danger t Was there any man attach- through many a weary and many a 
ed to the other branches of the Consti- stormy pilgrimage ; — scarce less a guide, 
tution, who did not contemplate, with and quite as much a guardian, in the 
anxiety and dismay, the rapid and, ap- cloud of his evening darkness as in 
patently, irresistible diffusion of doc- the brightness of his meridian day. 
trines nostile to the very existence of That such a loss, and the recollec- 
Parliament as at present constituted, tions and reflections naturally aris- 
ta/ calculated to excite, not hatred ing from it, must have had a tenden- 
*od contempt merely, but open and cy to revive and Ye£te& ta& %\\»&.- 

IW.3 Tht Warder. No. VI II 

I nent tofMonarchy, and to root that been known to the nation since it be- 

tttichmeiit deeper in the hearts of the came free. We are fond of dating our 

people, might easily be shown by rea- freedom from the Revolution. I should 

awing ; but a feeling truer than all be glad to know in what period since 

restoring anticipates the result, and the Revolution, (up to a very late pe- 

readers the process of argument unne- riod indeed, which I will specify,) in 

eemry. So far, therefore, has this what period of those reigns growing 

pest calamity brought with it its own out of the Revolution— I mean, of the 

compensation, and conspired to the first reigns of the House of Brunswick 

letforation of peace throughout the — did it enter into the head of man, 

cwntry, with the measures adopted by that such meetings could be holden, 

raraament. or that the Legislature would tolerate 

And, Gentlemen, what was the cha- the holding of such meetings, as dia- 

neter of those measures ? — The best graced the country for some months 

eakgy of them I take to be this : it previous to the last session of Parlia- 

may Tie said of them, as has been said ment ? When, therefore, it is asserted 

of some of the most consummate pro- that such meetings were never before 

dictions of literary art, that though suppressed, the simple answer is, they 

bo man beforehand had exactly anti- were never before systematically at- 

eijpatad them, no man, when they were tempted to be holden. 
laid before him, did not feel that they I verily believe, the first meeting of 

were such aa he would himself have the kind that was ever attempted and 

saggested. So faithfully adapted to tolerated (I know of none anterior to 

the case which they were framed to it) was that called by Lord George 

meet, so correctly adjusted to the de- Gordon, in St Georee's-fields, in the 

nee and nature of the mischief which year 1780, which led to the demolition 

uey were intended to control, that of chapels and dwelling-houses, the 

while we all feel that they have done breaking of prisons, and the conflagra- 

tbeir work, I think none will say there tion of London. Was England never 

aw been any thing in them of excess free till 1780? Did British liberty 

or s u p e r e r og ation. spring to light from the ashes of the 

We were loudly assured by the Re- metropolis r What! was there no 

firmer*, that the test throughout the freedom in the reign of George the 

country by which those who were am- Second ? None in that of George the 

bttkiaa of aeata in the new Parliament First ? None in the reign of Queen 

wold be tried was to be — whether Ann or of King William ? Beyond the 

they had supported those measures. I Revolution I will not go. But I have 

save inquired, with as much diligence always heard, that British liberty was 

atwas compatible with my duties here, established long before the commence- 

sfter the proceedings of otter elections; ment of the late reign ; nay, that in the 

sad I protest I know no place yet, be* late reign (according to popular politi- 

skfes toe hustings of Westminster and cians) it rather sunk and retrograded ; 

Soothwark, at which that menaced and yet, never till that reign was such 

test has been put to any candidates, an abuse of popular meetings dreamt 

lb me, indeed, it was not put as a test, of, much less erected into a right, not 

bat objected as a charge. You know to be questioned by Magistrates, and 

sow that charge was answered : and not to be controlled by Parliament, 
the result is to me a majority of 1300 Do I deny, then, the general right 

oat of £000 voters upon the poll. of the people to meet, to petition, or to 

But, Gentlemen, though this ques- deliberate upon their grievances ? God 
tion baa not, as was threatened, been forbid ! But right is not a simple, 
die watchword of popular elections, abstract, positive, unqualified term. 
etery other effort nas, nevertheless, Rights are in the same individual to 
been industriously employed to per- be compared with his duties; and 
sonde the country, that their liberties rights in one person are to be balanced 
bare been essentially abridged by the with the rights of others, But let us 
regulation of popular meetings. Against take the right to meet in its most ex- 
tant one of the measures passed by Par- tended construction. The perrons who 
anient it is that the attacks of the called the meeting at Manchester tell 
Kadical Reformers have been particu- you, that they had a right to collect to- 
bsiy directed. Gentlemen, the first gether countless multitudes to discuss 
answer to this averment is, that the the question of Parliamentary Refona; 
Act leave* untouched mil the constitu* to collect them when they wov\d, %n& 
<f smembly which bgye where they wtiuld, without wn«t\& 

14 Tk* Warder. No VL £ April 

of Magistrates, or co iicnueii ee of in- is of itself the source of tenor and oaf 

habitants, or reference to the comfort clanger. 

and convenience of the neighbourhood. It is no part of the provision o€ the 
Now may not the peaceable, the in* laws, nor is it in the spirit of them, 
dUBtrious inhabitant of Manchester that such multitudes shouM be btfcnisjht 
say, " I have a right to quiet in my together at the will of unauthorised 
house ; I have a right to carry on my and irresponsible individuals, dbanjrixtg 
manufactory, on which not my exist- the scene of meeting as may suit their 
ence only and that of my children, but caprice or convenience, and fixing it 
that of my workmen and their numer- where they hare neither property, nor 
oils families depends. I have a right domicile, nor connexion. The spirit 
to be protected m the exercise of nils of the law goes directly the other way. 
my lawful calling. I have a right to It is, if I may so express myself, emi- 
be protected, not against violence and nently a spirit of corporation. Conn- 
plunder only, against fire and sword, ties, parishes, townships, guilds, pro- 
but against the terror of these calam- fessions, trades, and callings, form so 
ities, and against the risk of these in- many local and political subdivisions, 
dictions; against the intimidation or into which the people of England are 
seduction of my workmen ; against distributed by the law ; and the per- 
the distraction of that attention and vading principle of the whole is that 
the interruption of that industry, with- of vicinage or neighbourhood ,* by which 
out which neither they nor I can gain each man is held to act under the view 
our livelihood. I calf upon the laws and inspection of his neighbours ; to 
to afford me that protection ; and if lend his aid to them, to borrow theirs ; 
the laws in this country cannot afford to share their councils, their duties, 
it, depend upon it, I and my manu- and their burdens ; and to bear with 
features must emigrate to some coun- them his share of responsibility for 
try where they can," Here is a con- the acts of any of the members of the 
flict of rights, between which, what community of which he forms a part. 
Is the decision ? Which of the two Observe, I am not sneaking here of 
claims is to give way ? Can any rea- the reviled and discredited statute law 
sonable being doubt ? Can any nanest only, but of that venerable common 
man hesitate ? Let private justice or law to which our Reformers are so 

Subfic expediency decide, and can the fond of appealing on all occasions, as 
ecision by possibility be other, than well as of the statute law by which it 
that the peaceable and industrious is modified, explained, or enforced, 
shall be potected, the turbulent and Guided by the spirit of the one, no 
mischievous put down ? less than by the letter of the other, 
But what similarity is there between what man is there in this country who 
tumults such as these, and an orderly cannot point out the portion of so- 
meeting, recognised by the law, for all ciety to which it belongs ? If injury 
legitimate purposes of discussion or is sustained, upon whom is the in- 

?etition ? God forbid, that there should jured person expressly entitled to 

ot be modes of assembly by which come tor redress ? Upon the hundred, 

every class of this great nation may be or the division in which he has sus- 

fr-ought together to deliberate on any tained the injury. On what prin- 

matters connected with their interest ciple ? On the principle, that as the 

and their freedom. It is, however, an individual is amenable to the division 

Inversion of the natural order of things, of the community to which he speci- 

it is a disturbance of the settled course ally belongs, so neighbours are an- 

of society, to represent discussion as swerable for each otner. Just laws, 

every thing, and the ordinary occupa- to be sure, and admirable equity, if a 

tions of lire as nothing. To protect stranger is to collect a mob which is 

the peaceable in their ordinary occu- to set half Manchester on fire ; and 

ELtions, is as much the province of the the burnt half is to come upon tbe 

ws, as to provide opportunities of other half for indemnity, while the 

discussion for every purpose to which stranger goes off unquestioned, by the 

it is necessarily and properly applies- stage ! 

ole. The laws do both ; but it is no That such was the nature, such the 

Crt of the contrivance of the laws that tendency, nay, that such, in all human 
mense multitudes should wantonly probability, might have been the re- 
be brought together, month after suit of such meetings, as that of the 
month and day after day, where the 16 th of August, who can deny? Who 
very bringing together of a multitude that weighs all the particulars of that 

1890.] The Warder. No VI. 1* 

day's transactions, comparing them recognized modes of collecting the 

with the rumours and the threats that sense of the English people ! Was it 

■tended them, will dispute that such by meetings such as these that the re* 

might have been the result of that volution was brought about, the great 

my day's meeting, if that meeting, so event to which our antagonists are so 

toy legally assembled, had not, by fond of referring? Was it by a meet* 

the happy decision of the magistrates, ing in St George's-fields ? in Spa* 

hen so very illegally dispersed? fields? in Smith-field? Was it by 

It is, therefore, not in consonance, untold multitudes collected in a vii- 

bot in contradiction to the spirit of lage in the north? No; it was by 

the law, that such meetings have been meeting of corporations in their cor- 

hshkn. The law prescribes a cor- porate capacity — by the assembly of 

ponte character. The callers of these recognised bodies of the State— by the 

meetings have always studiously a* interchange of opinions among por- 

iwded it. No summons of freehold- tions of the community known to each 

at— none of freemen — none of the other, and capable of estimating each 

Jahahjtants of particular places or pa- others views and characters. Do we 

risks— no acknowledgment of local want a more striking mode of reme- 

or political classification. Just so at dying grievances than this ? Do we re- 

the beginning of the French revolu- quire a more animating example? And 

tion : die first work of the Reformers did it remain for the Reformers of the 

ns to loosen every established politi- present day to strike out the course by 

cat relation, every legal holding of which alone Great Britain could make 

■an to man, to destroy every corpo- and keep herself free ? 
ntion, to dissolve every subsisting Gentlemen, all power is, or ought 

dsjs of society, and to reduce the na- to be, accompanied by responsibility, 

tion into individuals, in order, after- Tyranny is irresponsible power. This 

wards, to congregate them into mobs, definition is equally true, whether the 

Let no person, therefore, run away power be lodged in one or many ; 
with the notion, that these things whether in a despot, exempted by 
were done without design. To bring the form of government from the con- 
tainer the inhabitants of a particu- trol of law ; or in a mob, whose 
hr division, or men sharing a com- numbers put them beyond the reach 
■on franchise, is to bring together an of law. Idle, therefore, and absurd, 
awembly, of which the component to talk of freedom where a mob do* 
pots act with some respect and awe of mineers ! Idle, therefore, and absurd, 
each other : ancient habits, which the to talk of liberty, when you hold 
Besot mer e would call prejudices, pre- your property, perhaps your life, not 
csace i ved attachments, which they indeed at the nod of a despot, but at 
would call corruption, that mutual the will of an inflamed, an infuriated 
respect which makes the eye of a populace ! If, therefore, during the 
neighbour a security for each man's reign of terror at Manchester or at Spa* 
ped conduct, but which the Reform- fields, there were persons in tnia 
en would stigmatise as a confederacy country who had a right to complain 
anong the few for dominion over their of tyranny, it was they who loved the 
IIIusji ell these things make men Constitution, who loved the Monar- 
fifieult to be moved on the sudden to chy, but who dared not utter their 
say extravagant and violent enterprise, opinions or their wishes until their 
let bring together a multitude of in- houses were barricadoed, and their 
dividuals having no permanent rela- children sent to a place of safety, 
uen to each other, no common tie, That was tyranny ! and, so far as 
bat what arises from their concurrence the mobs were under the control of 
as members of that meeting— a tie a leader, that was despotism. And it 
dissolved aa soon as the meeting is at was against that tyranny, that despot* 
at end 5— in such an aggregation of ism, that Parliament at length raised 
iadrriduals there is no such mutual its arm. 

respect, no such check upon the pro- All power, I say, is vicious, that it 

«**K«gfT of each man from the awe of not accompanied by proportionate res* 

his neig hb o ur 's disapprobation ; and if ponsibility. Personal responsibility 

ever a nmltitudinous assembly can be prevents the abuse of individual pow- 

vrought up to purposes of mischief, er ; responsibility of character is the 

it wffl be an assembly bo composed. security against the abuse of coUec&ie 

H ew m mti n n w i it to confound power, when exercised by Vwuica <£ 

"* awrtfi aj fi with the genuine end men whose fii*tf i¥ >t> i» pcxman&sA 

If The Warder. No VI. Oprii 

afed defined. But strip such bodies Manchester or at Birmingham, that 
«f these qualities, you degrade them he therefore speaks the sense of the 
into multitudes, and then what secu- town which he disquiets and endan- 
rity have you against any thing that gera ; or still more preposterously, 
they may do or resolve ; knowing that because he has disquieted and en- 
that the moment the meeting is at an dangered half a dozen neighbourhoods 
end, there is no human being respon- in their turn, he is, therefore, the or- 
aible for their proceedings ? The gan of them all, and, through them, 
meeting at Manchester, the meeting of the whole British people, 
at Birmingham, the meeting at Spa- Such are the stupid fallacies which 
fields or Smithfield, what pledge could the law of the last session has extin- 
they give to the nation of the sound- guished ! and such is the object and 
ness or sincerity of their designs ? effect of the measures which British 
The local character of Manchester, liberty is not to survive ! 
the local character of Birmingham, To remedy the dreadful wound thus 
was not pledged to any of the proceed- inflicted upon British liberty, to re- 
ings to which their names were ap- store to the people what the people 
pended. A certain number of ambu- have not lost, to give a new impulse 
tatory tribunes of the people, self- to that spirit of freedom, which no- 
elected to that high function, assumed thing has been done to embarrass or 
the name and authority of whatever restrain, we are invited to alter the 
place they thought proper to select for constitution of that assembly through 
a place of meeting ; their rostrum was which the people share in the Legis- 
pitched, sometimes here, sometimes lature ; in short, to make a Radical 
there, according to the fancy of the Reform in the House of Commons. 
mob, or the patience of the Magis- It has always struck me as extraor- 
trates ; but the proposition, the pro- dinary, that there should be persons 
poser was in all places nearly alike ; prepared to entertain the question of 
and when, by a sort of political ven- a change in so important a member 
triloquism, the same voice had been of the constitution, without consider- 
made to issue from half a dozen dif- ing in what way that change must 
ferent corners of the country, it was affect the situation of the other mem- 
impudently assumed to be a concord bers, and the action of the constitu- 
of sweet sounds, composing the united tion itself. 

voice of the people of England. I have, on former occasions, stated 

Now, Gentlemen, let us estimate here, and I have stated elsewhere, 

the raiffhty mischief that has been questions on this subject ; to which, 

done to liberty by putting down meet- as yet, I have never received an an- 

ings such as I have described. Let us swer. " You who wish to reform the 

ask, what lawful authority has been House of Commons, do you mean to 

curtailed ; let us ask, what respect- restore that branch of the Legislature 

able community has been injured ; let to the same state in which it stood at 

us ask, what form of municipal insti- some former period ? or do you mean 

tutions has been abrogated by a law to re-construct it on new principles ?" 

which fixes the migratory complaint Perhaps a moderate Reformer or 

to the spot whence it professes to ori- Whig will answer, that he means only 

ginate, and desires to hear of the to restore the House of Commons to 

grievance from those by whom that what it was at some former period. 

grievance is felt ; which leaves to I then beg to ask, and to that ques- 

Manchester as Manchester, to Bir- tion also I have never yet received an 

mingham as Birmingham, to London answer, " At what period of our his* 

as London, all the free scope of utter- tory was the House of Commons in 

ance which they have at any time en- the state to which you wish to restore 

joyed for making known their wants, it ?" 

their feelings, their wishes, their re- The House of Commons must, for 
monstrances ; which leaves to each of the purpose of this argument, be con- 
these divisions, its separate authority, sidered in two views : first, with re- 
to the union of all or of many of them spect to its agency as a third part in 
the aggregate authority of such a con- the constitution ; secondly, with re- 
sent and co-operation ; but which de- spect to its composition, in relation to 
nies to an itinerant hawker of grie- its constituents. As to its agency as 
vances, the power of stamping their a part of the constitution, I venture to 
una upon his wares; of pretending, say, without hazard, as 1 believe, of 
muse he may raise an outcry &£ contradiction, thai \Jhew \a wo ^exv<A 

1190.3 Th * Warder. No VI. 17 

k tlit history of this country in which effectual representative of the people; 

the House of Commons will be round representing them not as a ^Hpgntff 

to have occupied so large a share of commissioned to take care of their in- 

the functions of Government, as at terests, but as a deputy appointed to 

present. Whatever else may be said sneak their will. Now to this view of 

of the House of Commons, this one the matter I have no other objection 

Hint, at least, is indisputable, that than this — that the British Constitu- 

trom the earliest infancy of the con- tion is a limited Monarchy ; that a 

•ntuuon, the power of the House of limited Monarchy is, in the nature of 

Commons has been growing till it has things, a mixed Government ; but 

almost, like the rod of Aaron, absorbed that such a House of Commons as the 

its fellows. I am not saving whether Radical Reformer requires, would, in 

this is or is not as it ought to be. I effect, constitute a pure Democracy, 

surely mean to say why I think that which, it appears to me, would be in- 

it cannot be intended to complain of consistent with any Monarchy, and 

the want of power, and of a due share unsusceptible of any limitation, 

in the government as the defect of the I may have great respect for the 

isodern House of Commons. person who theoretically prefers a Re- 

I admit, however, very willingly, public to a Monarchy. But, even 
mat the greater share of power it ex* supposing me to agree with him in 
erases, tne more jealous we ought to this preference, I should have a pro- 
be of its composition ; and I presume, vious question to discuss, by which 
the r e fo re, that it is in this respect, he, perhaps, may not feel himself em* 
and in relation to its constituents, that barrassed ; which is this, whether I, 
the state of the House of Commons is born as I am (and as I think it is my 
contended to want revision. Well, good fortune to be) under a Monar- 
men, at what period of our history chy, am quite at liberty to consider 
was the composition of the House of myself as having a clear stage for po- 
Conunona materially different from litical experiments ; whether I should 
what it is at present ? Is there any be authorized, if I were convinced of 
period of our history in which the the expediency of such a change, to 
rights of election were not as various, withdraw Monarchy altogether from 
and in which the influence of property the British Constitution, and to sub- 
was not as direct, in which recom- stitute an unqualified Democracy in 
mendations of candidates were not as its stead ; or whether, whatever 
efficient, and some boroughs as close, changes I may be desirous of intro- 
m they are now ? I ask for informs* during, I am not bound to consider 
uon, bat that information, plain and the Constitution which I find as at 
ample as it is, and necessary, one least circumscribing the range and in 
should think, to a clear understand- some measure prescribing the nature 
ing, much more to a grave decision of of the improvement, 
the point at issue, I never, though so- For my own part, I am undoubted* 
lkitmg it with all humility, have ever ly prepared to uphold the ancient Mo- 
yet been able to obtain from any Re- narchy of the country, by arguments 
former, Radical, or Whig. drawn from what I think the blessings 

The Radical Reformer, indeed, to which we have enjoyed under it ; and 

fo him justice, is not bound to fur- by arguments of another sort, if argu- 

me with an answer to this ques- ments of another sort shall ever be 

bf COT tf> with his view of the brought against it — But all that I am 

-, precedents (except one which now contending for is, that whatever 

I shall mention presently) have no- reformation is proposed, should be 

thins; to do- The Radical Reformer considered with some reference to the 

would, probably, give to my first established constitution of the coun- 

snesthm an answer very different from try. That point being conceded to 

mat which I have supposed his mo- me, I have no difficulty in saying, that 

berate brother to give. He will tell I cannot conceive a constitution of 

me fohiy, that he means not simply which one-third part shall be an as- 

to bring die House of Commons back sembly delegated by the people, not 

either to the share of power which it to consult for the good of the nation, 

fancrry enjoyed, or to the modes of but to speak day by day, the people's 

election by which it was formerly re- will, which must not, in s few days 

tarned, bat to make it, what, accord- sitting, sweep away every other branch 

ing to hnsv hvaghl to be, « direct of the constitution that migtatttannt 

1* The Warder. No VI. £ April 

to oppose or control it. I cannot con- " Resolved, That the Commons of 

ceive now, in fair reasoning, any other England assembled in Parliament, 

branch of the constitution should pre- being chosen by and representing the 

tend to stand against it. If Govern- people, have the supreme authority of 

ment be a matter of will, all that we this nation." 

have to do is to collect the will of the In this resolution the leap is taken. 
nation, and, having collected it by an Will the Radical Reformers say that 
adequate organ, that will is paramount it is taken unfairly — with such a 
and supreme. By what shadow of ar- tempting precedent before them ? But 
gument could the House of Lords be the inference did not stop there. The 
maintained in equal authority and ju- House of Commons proceeded to re* 
risdiction with the House of Commons, solve, without one dissenting voice : 
when once that House of Commons " That whatsoever is enacted and 
should become a mere deputation, declared law by the Commons of Ens- 
speaking the people's will, and that land assembled in Parliament, hath 
will the rule of die Government ? In the force of law, and all the people of 
one way or other the House of Lords this nation are included thereby, al- 
must act, if it be to remain a concur- though the consent and concurrence 
rent branch of the Legislature. Ei- of the King and House of Peers be not 
titer it must uniformly affirm the had thereunto." 
the measures which come from the Such was the theoretical inference 
Commons, or it must occasionally take of the House of Commons in 1648, 
the liberty to reject them. If it uni- the logical dependence of which upon 
ftnnly affirm, it is without the pre- the foregoing proposition, I say, I 
fence of authority. But to presume to should be glad to see logically dis- 
reiect an act of the deputies of the proved. The practical inferences were 
whole nation ! — by what assumption not tardy in their arrival, after the 
of right could three or four hundred theory. In a few weeks the House of 
great proprietors set themselves against Lords was voted useless ; and in a few 
me national will ? Grant the Re- more we all know what became of the 
formers, then, what they ask, on the Crown. 

principles on which they ask it, and it Such, I say, were the radical doc- 

is utterly impossible that, after such a trines of 1648, and such the conse- 

Hefbrm, the constitution should Ions quences to which they naturally led. 

consist of more than one body, and If we are induced to admit the same 

that one body a popular assembly. premises now, who is it, I should be 

Why, Gentlemen, is this theory? or glad to know, that is to guarantee us 
is it a theory of mine ? If there be against similar conclusions ? 
among those who hear me any man These, then, are the reasons why I 
who has been (as in the generous en- look with jealousy at Parliamentary 
thusiasm of youth any man may Reform. I look at it with still more 
blamelessly have been) bitten by the jealousy, because in one of the two 
doctrines of reform, I implore him, classes of men who co-operate in sup- 
before he goes forward in his progress port of that question, I never yet found 
to embrace those doctrines in their any two individuals who held the same 
radical extent, to turn to the history of doctrines ; I never yet heard any in- 
the transactions in this country in the telligible theory of Reform, except 
▼ear 16*48, and to examine the bear- that of the Radical Reformers. Theirs, 
ings of those transactions on this very indeed, it is easy enough to understand, 
fluestion of Radical Reform. He will But as for theirs I certainly am not yet 
And, Gentlemen, that the House of fully prepared. I, for my part, will not 
Commons of that day passed the fol- consent to take one step without know- 
lowing resolution : ing on what principle I am invited to 

" Resolved, that the people are take it, and (which is perhaps of more 

under God, the original of all just consequence) without declaring on 

powers !" what principle I will not consent that 

Well, can any sentiment be more any step, however harmless, shall be 

just and reasonable ? Is it not the taken. 

foundation of all the liberties of man- What more harmless than to dis- 
kind? Be it so. Let us proceed. The franchise a corrupt borough in Corn- 
House of Commons followed up this wall, which has exercised its franchise 
resolution by a second, which runs in amiss, and brought shame on itself, 
*0B*ethij&bke these terms: and on the system of which it is a 

- A P r ! 1W0-3 The Warder. No VI. 19 

t * ns *' jsrt?— Vothing. I have no sort of pool— but on the bench immediately 
* V J}^ objection to doing, as Parliament has over against me, I descry scarce any 


•k ■ 


often done in such cases, (supposing other sort of representatives than 
alwjys the case to be proved ;) to dis* members for close, or, if you will, fbr 
fhu-hising the borough, and render- rotten boroughs. To suppose, there- 
V ^ in? it incapable of abusing its franchise fore, that our political opponents have 
i : in' future. But, though I have no any thoughts of getting rid of the close 
/. 7 objtecion to doing this, I will not do it boroughs, would be a gross delusion; 
~~ rathe principle of speculative improve- and, I have r.o doubt, they will be 
meat. I do it on die principle of spe- quite as fair and open with the Re- 
cine punishment fbr an offence. And form era on this point as I am. 
I will take good care that no inference And why, gentlemen, is it that I 
dull he drawn from my consent in this am satisfied with a system which, it is 
neefic case, as to any sweeping con- said, no man can support who is not 
*_~ j carrence in a scheme of general al- in love with corruption ? Is it that I, 
tendon. more than any other man,, am afraid 
Nty , I should think it highly dis- to face a popular election ? To the last 
ia^raaous to suffer the Radical Re- question you can give the answer. To 
firmer* to imagine that they had tne former I will answer fbr myself. I 
pined a single step towards tne ad- do verily believe, as I have already 
mission of their theory by any such said, that a complete and perfect de- 
nounce of particular animadversion mocratical representation, such as the 
on proved misconduct. I consent to Kefonners aim at, cannot exist as part 
inch disfranchisement ; but I do so, of a mixed government. It may exist, 
sot with a view of furthering the and, for ought I know or care, may 
radical system, but rather of thwarting exist beneficially as a whole. But I 
it. I am glad to wipe out any blot in am not sent to Parliament to inquire 
the present system, because I mean into the question whether a democracy 
the present system to stand. I will or a monarchy be the best. My lot is 
tib away a franchise, because it has cast under the British Monarchy. 
been practically abused, not because I Under that I have lived, under that I 
am at all disposed to inquire into the have seen my country flourish, under 
oriirin or to discuss the utility of all that I have seen it enioy as great a 
roA franchises, anymore than I mean share of prosperity, of nappincss, and 
to inquire, Gentlemen, into your titles of dory, as I believe any modification 
to your estates. Disfranchising Gram- of human society to be capable of be- 
pound, (if that is to be so,) I mean to stowing ; and I am not prepared to 
are Old Sarum. sacrifice or to hazard the fruit of cen- 
Now, Sir, I hope I deal fairly with tunes of experience, of centuries of 
the Radical R e forme r s, more fairly struggles, and of more than one century 
than those who would suffer it to be of liberty as perfect as ever blessed any 
*oprased that the disfranchisement of country upon the earth, for visionary 
(rrampound is to be the beginning of schemes of ideal perfectibility, or 
a system of Reform : while they know, doubtful experiments even of possible 
and I hope mean as well as I do, not improvement. 

to Reform (in the sense of change) 1 ain, therefore, for the House of 
bat to preserve the Constitution. I Commons as a part and not as the 
would not delude the Reformers, if I whole of the Government. And, as a 
could ; and I know it would be quite part of the Government, I hold it to 
useless to attempt a delusion upon per- be frantic to suppose, that from the 
was quite as sagacious in their gene- election of members of Parliament you 
ration as amy moderate Reformers or can altogether exclude, by any contri- 
Anti- refb r m e rs of us all. They know vance, even if it were desireable to do 
nul well that the Whigs have no more so, the influence of property, rank, 
notion than I have of parting with the talents, family connexion, and what- 
dose boroughs. Not they, indeed. A ever else, in the Radical language of 
large, and perhaps the larger part of the day, is considered as intimidation 
them, are m their hands. Why, in or corruption. I believe, that if a ra- 
the assembly to which you send me, form to the extent of that demanded 
Gentlemen, some of those who sit on by the Radical Reformers were grant* 
the same side with me, represent, to eel, you would, before an annual elec- 
be sure, less popular places than Liver- tion came round, find that there were 
Vol. VJL C 

SO The Warder. No VI. [April 

new connexions grown up which you ipecies of representation which, as as 

must again destroy, new influence ac- element in the composition of Paris* 

quired which you must dispossess of ment, I never shall cease to defend, 
its authority, and that in these fruit- In truth, Gentlemen, though tht 

less attempts at unattainable purity question of Reform is made the pre* 

you were working against the natural text of those persons, who have vexed 

current of human nature. the country for some months, I verily 

I believe, therefore, that, contrive believe that there are very few even 

how you will, some such humble mo- of them who either give credit to their 

tives of action will find room to ope- own exaggerations, or care much about 

rate in the election of members of the improvements which they recom- 

Parliament. I think that it must and mend. Why, do we not see that tht 

ought to be so, unless you mean to most violent of the Reformers of the 

exclude from the concerns of the na- day are aiming at seats in that 

tion all inert wealth, all inactive ta- bly, which, according to their 

lent, the retired, the aged, and the in- theories, they should have left to 

firm, all who cannot face popular as- low in its own pollution, discounte* 

semblies or engage in busy life; in nanced and unredeemed? It is true, 

short, unless you have found some that if they had found their way there, 

expedient for disarming property of they might have endeavoured to bring 

influence, without (what I hope we us to a sense of our misdeeds, and to 

are not yet ripe for) the abolition of urge us to redeem our character by 

property itself. some self-condemning ordinance ; but 

I would have by choice — if the would not the authority of their names, 

choice were yet to be made — I would as our associates, have more than 

have in the House of Commons great counterbalanced the force of their elo- 

variety of interests, and I would have quence as our Reformers, 
them find their way there by a great But, Gentlemen, I am for the whole 

variety of rights of election ; satisfied constitution. The liberty of the sub* 

that uniformity of election would pro- ject as much depends on the mainte- 

duce any thing but a just represents- nance of the constitutional preroga* 

tion of various interests. As to the tives of the Crown, on the acknow- 

dose boroughs, I know that through ledgment of the legitimate power of 

them have found their way into the the other House of Parliament, as it 

House of Commons men whose talents does in upholding that supreme power 

have been an honour to their kind, (for such it is in one sense of the 

and whose names are interwoven with word, though hot in that of the Revo* 

the history of their country. I can- lution of 1648,) the power of the 

not think that system altogether purse which resides in the democratic 

vicious which has produced such cal branch of the constitution. What- 

fruits. I cannot think that there ever beyond its just proportion wss 

should be but one road into that as- gained by one part, would be gained 

sembly, or that no roan should be at the expense of the whole ; and the 

presumed fit for the deliberations of a balance is now, perhaps, as nearly 

senate, who has not had the nerves poised as human wisdom can adjust 

previously to face the storms of the it. I fear to touch that balance, the 

hustings. disturbance of which must bring con- 

I need not say, Gentlemen, that I fusion on the nation, 
am one of the last men to disparage Gentlemen, I trust there are few, 
the utility and dignity of popular very few, reasonable and enlightened 
elections. I have good cause to speak men ready to lend themselves to pro- 
of them in far different language. — jects of confusion. But I confess 1 
But, among numberless other consi- very much wish, that all who are not 
derations which endear to me the fa- ready to do so would consider the ill 
vours which I have received at your effect of any countenance given, pub- 
hands, 1 confess it is one, that as your licly or by apparent implication, to 
representative I am enabled to speak those whom, m their heart and judg- 
my genuine sentiments on this (as I ments, they despise. I remember that 
think it) vital question of Parliament- most excellent and able man, Mi 
ary Reform, without the imputation Wilberfbrce, once saying in the House 
of shrinking from popular canvass, or of Commons, that he " never believed 
of seeking shelter for myself in that an opposition really to wish mischief 

IMOlJ Tkt Warder. No VJ. 91 

It the country ; that they only wished avoid the fall ? I fear they would at* 

just to much mischief a* might drive tempt it in Tain. The impulse once 

opponents out, and place them- given, may he too impetuous to he con- 

m their room." Now, Gentle- trolled, and intending only to change 

I cannot help thinking, that the guidance of the machine, they 

ire some persons tampering with may hurry it and themselves to irre- 

the question of Reform something in trievahle destruction. 
tie acme spirit. They do not go so May every man who has a stake in 

ftr as the Reformers ; they even state the country, whether from situation, 

nsosncileable differences ; hut to a from character, from wealth, from his 

ortain extent they agree and even co- family, and from the hopes of his 

saasfee with them. They co-operate children, — may every man who has a 

nth them in inflaming the public sense of the blessings for which he is 

Mag not only against the Govern- indebted to the form of Government 

■at, but against the support given under which he lives, see that the 

i Parliament to that Government, in time is come at which his decision 

hope, no doubt, of attracting to must be taken, and, when once taken, 

themselves the popularity which is lost stedfastly acted upon— for or against 

to their opponents, and thus being the institutions of the British Mo- 

eubled to correct and retrieve the narchy. The time is come at which 

erors of a displaced administration, there is but that line of demarkation. 

Tin and boneless task, to raise such a On which side of that line we, Gen- 

aant and men to govern it ! They tlemen, shall range ourselves, our 

■sy ^j-mlmtg the steeds into fury, choice has long ago been made. In 

tiB the chariot is hurried to the brink acting upon that our common choice 

«f a precipice ; but do they flatter with my best efforts and exertions, I 

t h ems el v es that they can then leap in, shall at once, faithfully represent your 

tad, hurling the incompetent driver sentiments and satisfy my own judg- 

from his seat, check the reins just in ment and conscience, 
tine to turn from the precipice and 


ii editor, remark, and which I nevertheless feel 
Piom die neutral position which I unwilling to pass by without directing 
sue ventured to assume, not as be- your attention to it, were it only for 
tasen conflicting principles (on which the purpose of shewing you that it has 
ao nan ought to be neuter) but as not escaped mine. The author does 
b e t wee n contending factioru, allow roe not expressly say that he is himself 
It pursue a little farther the line I the wise man, " par excellence," who 
have adopted of reflection on the con- alone pursues his path without caring, 
diet of both. A distinguished poli- while all the rest of the party, which 
tieal writer describes in a few words he has hitherto thought worthy of that 
the situation of men who, in a state denomination, are suddenly transform- 
distracted by party divisions, refuse ed into fools and madmen, exclaiming 
to go all lengths with those to whom against him for having deserted them. 
they BeneraUy adhere. " Ceci m'est He only leaves this conclusion to be 
smvephis d une fois dans ma vie.-— necessarily inferred from the premises ; 
Des hommes avec lesquels j'avois fait and vet, after all, it is the conclusion 
affiance parcequ'ils avoient raison, ont at wnich every man who expresses an 
em que j'etais engage* par cette alliance opinion differing from others must ex- 
a lea soutenir meme quand ils avoient pect his hearers to arrive — for, other- 
tart. Le cas n'est pas rare en politi- wise, of what value is his opinion ? If 
que. Pendant quelque terns les sages he thinks himself wrong, it is not his 
et les insenses marchent ensemble. — opinion which he expresses. If right, 
II riant an moment ou les insenses, it follows of necessity that he must 
s'ekneent et crient a Fabandon quand think the others wrong— in plainer 
en ne lea suit pas. Les sages conti- words, that to the extent at feast of 
■uent leur route sans s'inquie'ter." — the present question, he alone is " le 
There b an sir of modest humility in sage 1 ' the rest—" les fous" and " \«% 
tins psasapy which you will doubtless iosens£a"--civil words, no doubt, \wX 

20 Remarks by a Liberal Wnig>. Q April 

still very properly expressions of bis that very abuse and misrepresentatfon 
true meaning. Thus, it is rather a are instruments of no potency in thessr 
false modesty that leaves to be raised hawlfl when opposed to aunikr weapons 
by implication, a construction which in the grasp of their aatagonista, Th«? 
necessarily follows from every man's world, which looks upon the parties 
declaring that such, or such, is his in and out of place with the same? 
particular opinion. Still, in the pre- eyes that it contemplates two prise— 
sent refined state of society, it is far fighters on a stage, feels naturally in* 
better that hard words should be dignaot when that which, in point oaT 
avoided in every discussion ; and there- situation, has a great and overwhelm— 
fore it is to be regretted that the wri- ing advantage, condescends, in addi- 
ter above quoted did not add to the tion, to resort to the sssse inatruments 
humility for which he is so conspicu- of annoyance which the other employ* 
ou8, a little forbearance, and substi- as his only means of defence and re- 
tute some milder epithets, by which to sistance. It is like a combat between. 
characterise the fault of tnose who two swordsmen, of whom one is cased 
choose to proceed farther than he does in complete armour, while the other is 
in the road to which he had, up to a naked. But I have a stronger objec- 
certain point, journeyed with them, tion to urge against this method as? 
Of all shapes in which intemperance of ministerial warfare. In the hands of 
thought or language displays itself, opposition, exaggersiionsnd mis-state* 
the most odious is that which it as- ment, ridicule and calumny, are so far 
suraes when employed by men to the recognised instruments of partw 
whom the world (whether justly or purposes as to have lost at least hats? 
unjustly) will always affix the stigma their effect, even with the multitude ; 
of political apostacy, when it hears and no man— I will not say no man of 
them reviling and insulting their for- sense only— but nobody what ev er ■ 
mer partisans and associates. I en- now thinks the worse of a minister's 
tertain all possible indulgence for any talents because the Edinburgh Beview 
honest change of opinions, and all calls him incapable, or more highly of 
possible respect for the honest account his opponents because the same journal 
of such change; but the very con- represents that certain improvements 
seriousness of being subject to such in political knowledge, which are open 
mutability, ought to make all men to all the world, have by some unac- 
cautious and moderate in their expres- countable fatality remained as exclu- 
sions regarding the opinions of others; sivelv their own property as if they 
and more especially, those who are not had been sealed up, and the use of 
only theoretically but experimentally them prohibited to every one else. But 
acquainted with this infirmity of hu- it is otherwise, when thewsaineeiwnnea 
man nature. Of the various grada- of fraud and contrivance are employed 
tions, therefore, of criminality, to under the broad imposing cover of 
which the vice of exaggeration is official or semi-official gravity. The 
subject, the highest and most enor- Whig, bespattered with government 
moua is the exaggeration of renegades dirt, becomes at once, in the eyes of 
and apostates— which terms, in their half the world, the identical- monster 
popular sense, I take to include all they would represent him to be; and 
men who have publicly altered their as, unfortunately, there -now exists a 
political creed, or separated themselves third party in the state, incomparably 
from their political associates. Next more dangerous and more hostile to 
tothatinflagitiousnen,utheexaggera- the existence of both Whigs and 
tion of men in power, which I consider Tories, than either of those can be to 
as incomparably less excuaeable than the other ; and who are restrained, by 
that of Whigs and Reformers ; both as no one scruple of honour or policy, by 
it is more mischievous in its effects, no one motive which can actuate the 
and as there is less temptation to the mind of a gentleman* and by no one 
commission of it The party in principle that is seated in the breast of 
power, when once firmly seated, have a patriot, by whom the old and regu- 
the command of innumerable engines, lar opposition, so long as they retain 
and methods of self-support, infinitely the smallest portion of popular favour 
more efficient than the abuse and mis- or esteem, are beyond all comparison 
representation of their less fortunate more hated than the warmest and most 
rivals ; besides, that to the fair and violent among the supporters of go- 
well-judging part of the commujuty, vernment, the consequence is* that, 

1880.] llssstrfe by a Liberal Whig. 93 

tit— ailed on both tides, they must, cussion, between the contending psr* 

« i aeliticil party, soon cease to have ties which we denominate, (for want of 

say being; and that with their fall, more proper terms of distinction) Whig 

the old and well tried balance of the and Tory ? Let us first calmly consider 

eaastitutkm will be destroyed, and the what is the actual situation of the 

fterties of the nation delivered over, country, and then, if we can persuade 

beand and fettered, to all the extre- ourselves that it is really such as to 

nines which the prevalence of despo- leave those who have its interests at 

thmor anarchy nuy inflict uj^ them, heart, sufficient leisure to devote 

last quite convinced that this deplo- themselves to this war of words, and 

nalt crisis is not to be averted on the that they can devote themselves to it 

ant of the Whigs, by the weak com- securely, there is no more to be said* 

amuse of a single constitutional prin- But, if higher and more immediate 

dale in the way of concession to do- duties not only require their attention, 

ailar clamour and insolence ; ana I but are of such a nature as to demand 

an equally certain, that it must be it entirely, what true Englishman 

onlrulably accelerated by the system will persist for a moment longer in 

of abuse and recrimination so diligent- the useless, the more than useless, ex- 

ly pursued by the government writers ercise ? The nation is no longer di- 

Cthe remnant of a party, which, vided between Whig and Tory, or be- 
politically opposed, is essen- tween Churchman and Dissenter, or 
sally united to them by one common between Protestant and Catholic ; but 
afcrest against their more formidable between those of all parties who ac- 
sad radical opponents. It is by knowledge an interest, and who claim 
Manns of concession to and con- a right, in the preservation of the 
bbstion with all those of every class commonwealth, and those whose only 
ssd mode of opinion to whom the ark aim, secret or open, is to destroy it. 
sf the constitution is yet properly the It is impossible that any man, who* 
abject of veneration and care, and not ther he be Whir; or Tory, can be so 
by the proud and uncompromising blinded by the bigotry of faction, as 
aairit of injustice, which would con- not to be internally convinced, that 
■and all shades and diversities of it is as much the desire and the object 
leant and dissent in one indiscrimi- of those of the contrary party, as it is 
sue charge of rebellion, that the state his own, to defend the real interests 
know to be defended against the at- of the state against the enemies who 
tacks of those who are openly pledged are leagued together for its overthrow, 
sad sworn to its subversion ; and it is Then why any longer stoop to employ 
well said by the author whom I have that false and execrable jargon, the 
before cited, with feelings very different sole tendency of which, is to confound 
man those of entire approbation, — the proudest and best established dia- 
" Lea amis aveugles des mesures vio- Unctions, and by levelling the barriers 
kntes tombent sans cesse dans la meme of truth, to expose the constitution, 
crreur. C'est au despotisme qu'ils de- unarmed and naked, to every abaft 
mandent In reparation des maux que le which is aimed at its existence ? Let 
despotisme a causes. Quand un etat me ask, — setting aside all motives of 
est pret a peri rente de Uberte, ils ap- prudence and true political wisdom — 
seDentaleur secours plus de servitude whether, in common justice between 
encore, et c'est par un accroissement man and man, the Whigs are strictly 
d'arbitraire qu'ils croient apaiser le chargeable as a body, with all the 
besoin des garanties, Mais le pouvoir warm and intemperate expressions, 
abaohi n'est pas comme la lance d' with all the extravagant doctrines or 
▲chule---il ne guerit point lesblessures principles, to which the fury of the 
qu'il a nutes— il les envenime et lea moment may have given birth in cer- 
rend incurables.'* tain individuals of the party, any 
Now, if there is any truth in this more than these whose profession is 
observation, (and I think that every that of attachment to the existing go- 
day's political experience more and vernment, are deserving of having im- 
more tends to confirm it,) how does puted to them, in the mass, the ex- 
it apply to the habit of perpetual a- ploded chimera of the divine right of 
base and altercation to which the kings, or the more dangerous notion 
public is condemned to listen, in the of the perfection of absolute monar- 
sarm of sound argument and fair dis- chy, upon which many of their too 


34 Remarks by a Liberal Wkig. £ April 

zealous partisans appear ready to act, unreflecting part of the nation— of 
although they do not venture openly that nation which will not consent to 
to profess them ? But, if the false become the mere blind tools and sim- 
imputation of matters of opinion be pie adherents of even the best admi- 
justly reprehensible, how much more nistration — upon the hollow and dan- 
unpardonable is that of interested mo- gerous protection offered them by a 
tives, and corrupt designs and inten- set of unprincipled adventurers against 
tions? How, after the experience of both the conflicting parties, making no 
the last twenty or thirty years, it can scruple to bespatter them equally with 
still be asserted, by any person having the dirt which each, in its blindness, 
the smallest pretension to truth or imagined to be safely employed as the 
common honesty, ( what, nevertheless instrument of attack upon the other ? 
we find unblushingly repeated in every A general election is the fittest of 
page of every government journal, and all seasons to call forth in every breast 
often broadly insinuated, if not dis- which retains the smallest regard to 
tinctly promulgated as the true politi- truth and moderation of sentiment, 
cal creed, from every quarter of the observations of the nature of these 
Treasury Bench), that the sole object which I have now addressed to you. 
of the party in opposition, is to dis- On the more zealous and determined 
possess then: rivals, and bring them- adherents of either party, I can have 
selves into place and power, and how little hope that they are calculated to 
an assertion, so self-evidently false, and produce any effect ; but if they should 
almost ridiculous, can actually obtain tend to preserve one candid and liberal 
credit, and pass current, with three* mind from beimr merged in that vor- 
fourths of the nation, is, I think, texof faction, which threatens to swal- 
among the most inexplicable pheno- low up all that remains of true hones- 
mena of modern politics. Yet the ty and sobriety in the nation, I shall 
mischief of such a persuasion is as be satisfied to bear all the rest of my 
extensive as its absurdity should seem life, the reproach which Mr Hob- 
to be palpable. Great as the prepon- house — (not with much apparent J us- 
deranoe of the .government scale now tice or felicity,) the other day bestow- 
U, and long has been in the opinions ed upon his less popular rival at Co- 
of the country at large, yet the time vent-Garden, and be classed, together 
is not quite arrived— (and I hope to with him, among those 
God it never will arrive—) for repos- " Vile neutrals, who in caution's middle 
ing a blind and unlimited confidence steering, 

in any ministry, however popular and Are neither nth, nor flesh, nor good red 

however virtuous. With all the pre- herring." 

vailing bias in favour of the present The « Golden Mean," which we 

ministers, the people still require — were taught to venerate in our nur- 

(and long may they continue to de- series— the " Aurea Mediocritas," of 

mand— ) the constitutional check and which we read at school, and which 

security of a regular opposition. But, was inculcated by Horace as the best 

if that necessary and honourable part standard to regulate the lives and ac- 

of our state establishment, whose legi- tions of more than school-boys, has, 

timate office it is to watch the conduct since the new light of modem philo- 

of ministers, to weigh and investigate, sophy has visited us, (deservedly, I 

and (for the purpose of their being the suppose,) been exploded and rejected, 

more scrupulously weighed and inves- Yet, " in the golden days of good 

tigated) even frequently to oppose and Queen Bess," it was still regarded as 

impede, their minutest proceedings,— the golden rule of practice ; and the 

if the regular and constitutional oppo- most moral poet of that glorious age 

aition be vilified and calumniated, has, in his most moral and divine 

their principles misrepresented, and poem, devoted one entire canto to the 

their intentions falsified, what is the celebration of it. I am, Sir, yours, 

self-evident and immediate conse- &c Metxodoius. 
quence? What?— but to throw the 

MO.;] St Print MSS.. 9* 


Ttrtrait of List (late Baroness of Stael Hofstein, when Mademoiselle Necker,J 
by the Chevalier Charles Emmanuel de St Priest. 

Par die n'egti occhi a vampi una faceDa. 

Orlando FuHoso. 

No one p os es s ta more wit than Lise. may, however, be permitted to say, 
i ready conce p tion ; a retentive me- that I think it susceptible. When she 
any ; a liveliness of repartee ; a just speaks of it herself, her expressions 
tmp {mil, when she allows her atten- border somewhat on extravagance ; 
tiso to be fixed on any object ; a sen- bat this is because her conceptions are 
thnent of agreeable things ; a facility not as yet to be confined within the 
in expressing them ; information ; ac- narrow boundaries of what is real — 
csaipnahments. She is mistress, in Her vague imagination creating in her 
start, of all which is calculated to fancy a chimerical being, the only 
please ; and this all is embellished by one which has sufficient pretensions to 
the natural charm of her expressions, please her, it is very natural that she 
when she describes the sensations she should arrogate to herself sentiments 
fees*, which are not within the scope of hu- 
Too much ardour, or, at least, too manity, to the end that she may be 
neat s vivacity, sometimes carries her deserving of the phantom she em- 
beyond the bounds which custom braces. Her talents are allied to her 
stems to have prescribed. But until gayety, and partake of its freedom. 
experience shall have given her a suf- Her physiognomy indicates atten- 
lekot command over herself, to en- tion ; but this is deranged at intervals 
able her to be fully sensible of the uti- by the movement of her eyes : some- 
Kty and wisdom of the received notions times mild in their expression, and 
sf what is fit and congruous, and shall often ardent ; they are the mirror of 
htfe taught her to correct the work her soul. When mention is made of 
sf nature without spoiling it, these her father, they are animated to an 
tnnaports, or, rather, these flights of uncommon degree. If he were no- 
the imagination, are not to be other- thing more than an ordinary indivi- 
wise regarded than as we see, in a dual, she would betray her sensibi- 
ywmp poet, those inordinate sallies lity in speaking of him ; but her heart 
which bid defiance to the rules of art, rises to the level of the reputation of 
without, however, overstepping them, this celebrated man. 
«r daiming exceptions in their favour, The sensation which is felt by those 
but which announce the fire of genius, who listen to Lise for the first time is 
sad are its scintillations. astonishment. She subdues the self- 
Racine composed fine verses with love of others without wounding it— 
facility : the rigid Boileau recommend- and it is not long before each finds, to 
ed to him to give them a still higher his surprise, that he is more deeply 
polish. The young poet, sensible of interested in the conquests of Lise 
the goodness of his friend's advice, than in his own. 
bestowed more pains on the composi- 
tion of his pieces, and rendered them Chi vive amaado il sa, tenia chlo'l scriva. 
cbenVd'ceuvrea of harmony. OrL Furo. 

Such will be the operation of reason 

on Use, when Lise shall have felt and To Lise. 

judged: she will perfections te the __ _ _ 

woSofnatare* , »» # **ifartwere Vouchsafe • • • • • 

to interfere it would be a profana- . . -the* humble line, to take, 

"•J: » _* * t • v*. * a Th* *** return your poet e'er can make 

The Tieart of Lise ought not to Nor deem th e Ubour 5^ OT tribule ^^ 

occupy my thoughts: my profession* 'Tis all he has, and thus he offers all! 

"■"Vmrw me to be ignorant of it. I Hoole's Orlando. 

• The Knights of Malta were enjoined a vow of celibacy. 

*« • ISt Priest MSB. [[April 

Extract of a Letter relative to the Death of Voltaire, and that 

of Jean Jacques Rousseau. 

M. de Voltaire has just terminated to endure me at her side." He was 
his long career amid the honours paid not allowed to be interred in Paris ; 
to him by Parisian enthusiasm. He and the church in which he was 
was crowned at the Theatre Francais, buried at Troyes en Champagne, has 
at the close of the representation of been interdicted. His punishment 
his Irene, a tragedy which savours was well merited by him, seeing that 
strongly of the chilled age when he he protested, until his latest hour, 
wrote it. On quitting the theatre, he against the divinity of Jesus Christ. 
was surrounded 1 by the minor poets, He even composed the following epi- 
who demanded, on their knees, the gram, if it may be so named, against 
Honour of kissing his hands. This religion, and repeated it to his friends, 

excess of enthusiasm, which was very when tne agonies of death were fast 

ridiculous, became still more absurd approaching. 
on his reaching the house of Mr Adieu, met amis, 

Franklin, who tell on his knees, and Adieu, la compagnie, 

asked a blessing of him for his young Dans une heure <ftd, 

nephew. The excruciating pains felt Mon ame * *"&"*tic $ 

by M. de Voltaire led him to ask a Serace ^ eUe Hait *** kvreavant ma vie. 
remedy of his friend M. D. Richelieu, I have not heard that he has as yet 

who laboured under the same com- had an epitaph bestowed on him, un- 

plaint. The latter sent him opium, less the ines which have been handed 

the remedy to which he had himself about, and which are quite in the 

had recourse ; and by its abuse he was epigrammatic style, are to be consider- 

poisoned. In his latest moments, he ed as such. 

expressed a wish to consult M. Tron- De Voltaire admirez la bizarre pianette : 

chin, of whom, however, he did not IlnaquUehezNinon,etmourutchezVUittte, 
entertain the most favourable opinion, The latter is a young Swiss lady, of 

and treated him as a quack, his art as whom he was greatly enamoured, and 

imposture, &c Exasperated at these whom he had married to M. de 

insults, M. Tronchin told him, with Villette* 

much gravity, that, at the most, he Jean Jacques Rousseau has render- 
had not more than two hours to live, ed his end singularly interesting by 
and that therefore it behoved him to the memoirs of his life, in which he 
see to his affairs. On this observation has made an exact avowal of all his 
he was desired to withdraw. actions. These memoirs are comprised 

M. de Voltaire now raised himself in an octavo volume, which sells at a 

on his bed, with the help of his nurse most extravagant price. It is even 

and of his notary. The latter having said that copies have been purchased 

handled him somewhat roughly, re- at as high a rate as eighty livres, (more 

ceived a cuff, the force of which led than three guineas,) and from that to 

him to enter his protest against the twenty-five. The dearness of the 

Erognostic of the doctor. As soon as book arises from the vigilance of the 
e was recovered from the disorder police, and from its interest — for M. 
into which the awkwardness of the Rousseau has developed in it the in- 
notary had thrown him, he said to trigue of his novel. It is as follows : 
himself, "At length I am to die. — His Julie is Mademoiselle de Mont- 
Be it so ; but let my end be conform- morency, married to a French noble- 
able to my life. It is more than pro- man, whose name I have not been 
bable that my body will be deposited able to learn, and whom he styles 
in the Chan tier (timber-yard) of Madame Wolmar. This unfortunate 
Maurapas, where the ashes of La female has been long dead ; and it is 
Couvreur* repose. Forty years ago said by several persons who were ac- 
she would not permit me to sleep with quainted with Rousseau, that from 
her, but she will now be constrained that time he became unsocial and mis- 

• A celebrated actress, denied, with all those of her profession in the Catholic states, 
Christian burial 

f These details were given by M. Merrier, who was present when M. de Voltaire 
breathed his last. 

1M0.3 St Print MS8. . & 

anthropic. He acknowledges that he others, he presented to them this fe- 
had carried on, during three months, male, saying, " I call God and my 
an illicit intercourse with Madame de friends to witness that I acknowledge 
Montmorency, the mother of his Julie; no other wife beside Mademoiselle le 
and that this lady, conceiting herself to Vasaeur." By this woman he had four 
be the only object of his homage, had children, three of whom are, agreeably 
confided to him the education of her to his testimony, in the foundling hos- 
dauphter, whom he seduced : That a pital. With the destiny of the other 
nobleman had demanded her in mar- ne professes to be unacquainted, 
riace— and that he, Rousseau, having (Here is introduced an extract from 
had satisfactory proofs of the probity the preface, to " the confessions,'* 
of this nobleman, had beseeched him already before the public. What fol- 

not to entail misery on the young lows, as referring to the manner of 
kdy and on himself. To this he con* Rousseau's death, is not so well known, 

anted, and retired to his country seat. A loose hint is thrown out by Madame 

This personage is his Milord Edouard. de Stael, in her memoirs of this ex- 

That the Viscount de Montmorency, traordinary character, that a suspicion 

who is still living,* on his return was entertained of his having been 

from the war in Hanover, having per- taken off by poison. The particulars 

cared that intrigues were carrying on are these.) 

under his roof, dismissed M. Rousseau, The mausoleum of Jean Jacques 

and married his daughter to the no- Rousseau is at Ermenonville, where 

bkman known by the name of Wol- he died, in the house of his friend the 

mar. He also says, that having be- Marquis de Girardin. The cause of 

come desperately enamoured of Mad- his death has been disguised, by as- 

ame de Montmorency's female atten- cribing it to an attack of apoplexy, 

dant, his passion carried him to such He died of poison, because his me- 

a length as to instigate him to steal a moirs had appeared before the time 

gold trinket belonging to her mistress, he had prescribed ; and it was the in- 

with a view to criminate her: That fidelity of his mistress, who had stolen 

having thrown out suspicions against them from him, whicfe led him to 

mis unfortunate girl, he caused her have recourse to poison. He is buried 

to be sent to prison, to the end that, in a small island formed by a lake, in 

at her deliverer, he might acquire cer- the centre of a sombre group of trees, 

tain rights over her person ; and that, in which he took particular delight, 

if she had not vielded to his passion, On one side of his tomb, which is a 

he would have had the courage to see square of six feet, surmounted by a 

her hanged, and to despatch himself cornucopia, M. Girardin has inscribed 

afterwards with a poignard : That tne following lines, 

being in extreme distress, a doctor of Id, sous ccs ombres paisibles, 

the Sorbonne, whom he names, pro- Pour let restes de Jean Jacques Rousseau, 

posed to him to write against religion. VamitUposa ce tombeau : 

Tins offer he accepted, and took care ^ais c*est dans tous let caurs sensibles 

to fulfil his engagement He names Q^ ^* bomme divin 9 qui fut tout sentiment, 

a dosen women ofquality, still living, DoU trouver * re * ect Vettrnal monument. 
from whom he received favours, at The other aide of the tomb has a 

tones and under circumstances, which musical trophy for his operatic piece, 

carry with them a great air of proba- " le devin de village." Behind 

bility. His mistress is the daughter is a woman in tears, giving her breast 

of M. le Vasaeur, a director of imposts to an infant, who holds in his hands 

at Dijon. By his persuasives she was " l'Emile." The third side repre* 

led to elope with him. Having sents two doves billing; as an emblem 

brought together, at a dinner party, of the ,f Nouvelle Heloise." 
Messrs Diderot, d'Alembert, and 

* Tins was written shortly after me death of Rousseau. 
Vol. VII. D 

The Rape of Prceerpine. 


(Sceke— 7TU Fo/f of Euna.) 


freter. Now come and tit around me, 
And 111 divide the flowers, and give to each 
What moat becoraea her beauty. What a yak 
la thia oPEnna ! Every thing that cornea 
From the green earth* springs here more graciously* 
And the blue day, methlnks, smiles lovelier now 
Than it was wont even in Sicily. 
My spirit mounts as triumphing, and my heart, 
In which the red blood hides, seems tumulted 
By some delicious passion. Look, above, 
Aoove: How nobly thro* the cloudless sky 
The great Apollo goes— Jove's radiant sou— 
My other's son : and here, below, the bosom 
Or the green earth is almost hid by flowers. 
Who would be sad to-day ! Come round, and cast 
Each one her odorous heap from out her lap 
Into one pile. Some well divide among us, 
And, for the rest, we'll fling them to the Hours ; 
80 may Aurora's path become more fair, 
And we be blest in giving. 

J This one half-blown) shall be my Maia's portion, 
'or that, like it, her blush is beautiful: 
And thia deep violet, almost as blue 
As Pallas' eye, or thine, Lycimnia, 
IH give to thee, far like thyself it wears 
Its sweetness, never obtruding. For this lily, 
Where can it bans but at Cyane'a breast ? 
And yet 'twill wittier on so white a bed, 
If flowers have sense for envy : — It shall lie 
Amongst thy raven tresses, Cytheris, 
Like one star on the bosom of the night. 
The cowslip and die yellow primroee--they 
Are gone, my sad Leontia, to their graves, 
And April hath wept o'er them, and the voice 
Of March hath sung, even before their deaths, 
The dirge of those young children of the year.-— 
But here is heart'e-eese for your woes. And now, 
The hooey-suckle flower I give to thee, 
And love it for my sake, my own Cyane : 
II nana upon the stem it loves, aa thou 
Hast clung to me thro* every joy and sorrow ; 
It flourishes with its guardian s growth, aa thou dost ; 
And if the woodman's axe should droop the tree, 
The woodbine too must perish.— Hark 1 what sound— 
Do ye see aught? 


Beheld, behold, Proserpina ! 

How hoary clouds from out the earth arise, 

And wing their way towards the sides, 

As they would veil the burning blush of day. 

And, look, upon a rolling car, 

Some foerful being from afar 

*3 3ft* Raj* ofProterptot. 

Comet onward : At lie moves along the ground, 

A dull and subterranean sound 

Companions him ; and from hit nee doth thine, 

Proclaiming him divine, 

A light that darkens all the place around. 

esmcBOBue. (Cyme.) 

Tit he, 'tis he: he comes to us 
From the depths of Tartan*. 
For what of evil doth he roam 
From hit red and gloomy home, 
In the centre of the world, 
Where the sinful dead are hurled ? 
Hark him at he moves along; 
Drawn by horses black and strong. 
Such as may belong to Night, 
'Ere she takes her morning flight 
Now the chariot stops : the god 
On our grassy world hath trod: 
Like a Titan stepped* he, 
Yet full of hit divinity. 
On hit mighty shoulders He 
Raven locks, and in hit eye 
A cruel beauty, such at none 
Of us may wisely look upon. 

Proser. He comes indeed. How Jike a god he looks! 
Terribly lovely — Shall I shun hit eye, 
Which even here looks brightly beautiful? 
What a wild leopard glance he hat.'— I am 
Jove's daughter, and snail / then deign to fly ? 
I will not, yet methinks, I fear to stay. 
Come, let us go, Cyane. 

rujTO enters* 

Pluto. Stay, oh ! stay. 
Proserpina, Proserpina, I come 
From my Tartarean kingdom to behold you. 
The brother of Love am I. I come to say, 
Gently, beside the blue Sicilian stream, 
How much I love you, fair Proserpina. 
Think me not rude that thus at once I tell 
Hy passion. I disarm me of all power; 
And in the accents of a man I sue. 
Bowing before your beauty. Brightest maid*! 
Let me— still unprcsuminp—say I have 
Beamed thro* the earn, where many an eye hath snriTd 
In love upon me, tho* it knew me not : 
But I have passed free from am ong st them aD, 
To gate on you alone. I might have clasped 
Lovely and royal maidt, and throned queens, 
sea-nymphs, or fairy shapes that glide along 
Like light across the hills, or those that make 
Mysterious music in the desert woods, 
And shake the green leaves in the fine of day, 
Or lend a voice to fountains or to caves, 
Or answering hush the river's tweet reproach-- 
Ohf I've esoaned from all, to come ana tell 
Hew much I love you, tweet Proserpina. 

7%e Rape of Prompku. £A) 

vkmicho&cs.-— (Cyane.) 

Cdme with me, away, away* 

Fair and young Proserpina, 

You will die unlets you flee, 

Child of crowned Cy bele ! 

Think on all your mother's low, 

On every stream and pleasant grove 

That you must fbr era leave, 

Jf the dark king you believe* 

Think not on 1 ms eves of lire, 

Nor his wily hearts desire; 

Nor his mighty monarch tread ; 

Nor the locks that 'round his head. 

Run like wreathed snakes, and fling 

A shadow o'er his eyes' glandng ; 

Nor the dangerous whispers, hung . . 

Like honey, roofing o'er his tongue. • 

But think of all ihy mother's glory— 

Of her love— of every story 

Of the cruel Pluto told, 

And which grey Tradition old, 

With all its weight of grief and crime, 

Hath barr'd from out the grave of Time. 

Once again I bid thee flee, 

Daughter of great Cybele. 

Proser. You are too harsh, Cyme ! 

Pluto. Oh! my love, 
Fairer than the white Naiad—fairer ftr 
Than ought on earth, and fair as ought in heaven.— 
Hear me, Proserpina ! 

Proser. Away, away. 
111 not believe you. what a cunning tongue 
He has, Cyane ; has he not* Away : 
Can the gods flatter ? 

Pluto. By my burning throne ! 
I love you, sweetest : I will make you queen 
Of my great kingdom. One third of the world 
Shall you reign over, my Proserpina; 
And you shall rank aa high as any she, 
Save one, within the starry court of Jove* 

Proser. Will yon be true ? 

Pluto. I swear it Bf myself! 
Come then, my bride. . 

Proser. Speak thou agrtn, my friend. 
Speak, harsh Cyane, in. a harsher voice, 
And bid me not believe him* Ah I you droop 
Your head in silence. 

Pluto. Come, my bright queen ! 
Come, beautiful Proserpina, and see 

The regions.over which your husband reigns ; 
His palaces and fcadiant treasures, which 
Mock and outstrip all fable ; his great power, 

Which the living own, and wandering ghosts obey, 
And all the ekme n t a Oh! you shall sit 
On my illuminated throne, and be 
A Queen indeed; and round your forehead shall run 
Circlets of gema, as bright as those that bind 
The brows of Juno on Heaven's festal nights, 
When all the Gods assemble, and bend down 
In homage before Jove. 

«J The Rape of Proserpine. SI 

Proser. Speak out, Cyane ! 

Pluto. But, above all, in my heart shall you reign 
Supreme, a Goddess and a Queen indeed, 
Without a rival. Oh 1 and you shall share 
My subterranean power, and sport upon 
The fields Elysian, where 'midst softest sounds, 
And odours springing from immortal flowers, 
And mazy rivers, and eternal groves 
Of bloom and beauty, the good spirits walk : 
And you shall take your station in the skies 
Nearest the Queen of Heaven, and with her hold 
Celestial talk, and meet Jove's tender smile 
So beautiful—. 

Proser. Away, away, away, 
Nothing but force shall ever.— Oh, away. 
Ill not believe. Fool that I am to smile. 
Come 'round me virgins. Am I then betrayed ? 
Oh! fraudfulkingl 

Pluto. No, by tnis kiss, and this : 
I am your own, my love ; and you are mine 
For ever and for ever* Weep, Cyane. 

^Forces of Praserpme. 


They are «me— Aftr, afar, 
Like the shooting of a star, 
See their chariot fade away. 
Farewell, lost Proserpina. 

Cyane is gradually transformed.) 
But, oh ! what frightful change is here : 
Cyane, raise your eyes, and hear— 
We call thee. — Vainly — on the ground 
She sinks, without a single sound, 
And all her garments float around. 
Again, again she rises — light, 
Her head is like a fountain bright, 
And her glossy ringlets fall, 
With a murmur musical, 
O'er her shoulders like a river, 
That rushes and escapes fbr ever 

Is the fair Cyane gone? 
And is this fountain left alone, 
For a sad remembrance, where 
We may in after times repair, 
With heavy heart and weeping eye, 
To sing songs to her memory ? 

Oh ! then, farewell ! and now with hearts that mourn 
Deeply, to Dian's temple will we go : 
But ever on this day we will return, 
Constant, to mark Cyane's fountain flew ; 
And, haply, fbr among us who can know 
The secrets written on the scrolls of Fate, 
A day may come when we may cease our woe, 
And she, redeemed at last from Pluto's hate, 
Bise, in her beauty old, pure and regenerate. 


3£ tissay on Song Writing. Oprl 


mr editor, in their measure, bat which are not * 
Every one who has dabbled in verse, intended to be sang, and which can* - 
must have found the difficulty of writ- not be sung without manifest injury , 
ing a tolerably satisfactory song, — I to the effect of the composition. This ', 
mean, satisfactory even to the author phrase, however, will probably be bet- , 
himself. Most people also, whether ter understood, after considering the 
writers of verses or not, have some re- laws to the observance of whicn the 
membrance of being frequently dis- lyrical author is bound, 
appointed in songs which seemed good, The greatest difficulty, perhaps, ia 
or pleased, against their judgment, with the composition of a song which ia in- 
aongB which seemed bad, before they tended to be sung to an expressive air, 
were sung. These apparent contra- arises from the necessity that every 
dictions, though a little puzzling at stanza, being sung to the same air, 
firat sight, appear tome to be perfect- shall embody precisely the train of 
ly susceptible of explanation. Nor is sentiment or passion which the air 
that explanation difficult, if the as- musically expresses, 
gumption of certain premises be allow- This necessity is evident, in as much 
ed. Hypothesis, however, has gener- as if it does not do so, a discordance 
ally more or less to do with the illus- between the air and the words neces- 
tration of mysterious or contradictory sarily occurs ; the air conveying one 
phenomena ; and in attempting to description or degree of feeling, and 
elucidate those I have described, I the words another, which is destruc- 
shall be under the necessity of involv- tive of lyrical effect. For perfect ef- 
ing some degree of reference to Re- feet, indeed, it is necessary that the 
marks on the Nature of Musical Ex- greatest strength of poetical exprea- 
pression, and on the Progress of Poe- aion in the song should be so intre- 
tical Style, which have had the good duced as to correspond with those bars 
fortune to appear in former numbers of the music in wnich the musical ex- 
of your Miscellany. It will first be pression is strongest When this is 
necessary to enumerate the difficulties not done, although no actual discord- 
and requisites of song writing. Hav- ance may be evident, the sons loses 
ing done this, I shall indulge myself considerably in performance. The ex- 
in a few observations on well known pression of the air in some parts is ne- 
aongs, in their different classes, and cessarily too strong for the words, and 
on the obstacles to correct judgment in others too weak, and vice versa. 
on lyrical composition. As all lyrical music, which is ex- 
A good song may be defined to be a pressive at all, expresses some passion 
short piece of average metrical and or powerful feeling, by supposition in- 
poetical merit, adapted to an expres- herent in and exciting the singer, It- 
sive air. It ought to possess poetical rical music may properly be said to be 
merit equal to that wnich other ap- essentially dramatic. A song, when 
proved metrical compositions of the performed, is a passionate " discourse** 
same length usually comprehend : it in " most eloquent music" Its lan- 
ought also to be truly lyrical, that is guage must be exclusively that of the 
to say, its fifaess for being vocally per- feelings; and being so, must, if it ia 
formed should be evident in the fact true that simplicity is necessary to the 
of the poetical effect of the song be- pathetic, be also comparatively free 
ing heightened, rather than other- from every appearance of the artificial, 
wise, by its being sung. These con- This is a severe restriction upon the 
ditions certainly comprehend, in their song writer, who is constantly driven 
performance, considerable difficulties, by it towards common-place. This ia 
The song writer will be found to be an unfortunate dilemma. It seems to 
limited oy laws much more severe be almost undeniable, that poetical 
than those which are imposed upon originality is becoming every day more 
the writer of other poetical effusions and more dependant upon far-sought 
of equal length, whether apparently and artificial combinations of thought, 
lyrical or confessedly not so. The ex- Now this directly tends to render more 
pression, " apparently lyrical," I use and more difficult the original exhi- 
as descriptive of poetical pieces, lyrical bition of the pure pathetic, in poetical 


MnV] Eaay cm Song Writing* 88 

esnaoskioa, pennon being only to be Shakspeare's songs are very unequal; 

conveyed by strong and natural ex- his most fanciful are perhaps his best, 

awsrinn, which poetry has always " Blow, blow, thou winter wind/* 

Blind it impracticable to render sua- powerful as is its language, is yet ft 

sratiblc of adventitious ornament In little too didactic to be perfectly lyri- 

start, to the lyric poet is allotted the cal ; " but that's not much."—" Five 

aanoat impossible task of giving, with- fathom deep thy father lies," is a beau* 

est the aids which novelty of situation tiful disappointment. The conclusion 

eref preparation affords the dramatic does not answer the commencement. 

anker, a natural and striking, as well The " ding dong bell," in particular, 

at original expression of feeling, whilst I must venture to protest against ; 

he m at the same time subjected to even the name of Shakspeare cannot 

lyrical difficulties and limitations from sanctify the absurd burthens, the 

which the other is free. Such are the " heigh-hos !" and " hey nonny non- 

*MS>-1*3— of this species of poeti- nies," which the fashion of his time 

cal composition ; and it is from a has probably led him to affix to many 

asnumipli snce with some one or of his songs. The formal quaintness 

ether of the requisites which have of Harrington is directly at variance 

ham described, that those disappoint- with lyrical effect, nor can I help 

ssents which so often attend the lyri- thinking, that the lyrical parts of 

cal efforts of the greatest poetical ta- Fletcher's Faithful shepherdess have 

lata arise. Sometimes the structure been over-praised. The well-known, 

af the thought embodied in each " take, oh take those lips away," is, af- 

Hanaa is too artificial — sometimes the ter all, to me, the finest song of the time. 

ascription of sentiment in one stanza A little later, Ben Jonson s, " drink to 

elflerz from that in another, to which me only with thine eyes," is much 

tat same air is consequently inappli- and deservedly celebrated. Those 

rank eomrtfmrs the train of thought witty and elegant verses which are 

a throughout unsuitable to the air. called the songs of Charles the Second's 

Ranee springs that apparent incon- time, are nearly worthless as Lyrics. 

satency which causes us to reject, Let everyone, however, read them, but 

vhen sung, stanzas of undoubted poe- let them only be read ; they are pretty 

ties] merit, and to prefer lines of little songs as they stand, and singing only 

anginal desert, or which, however, spoils them. 

the sentiment is similar to, and con- At what period the description of 

ananas with the air to which they are lyrics, called " Hunting songs," be- 

joined. came general, I cannot certainly say. 

The aonga of the earlier poets, They are less satisfactory to me than 

Shakspeare, Fletcher, and others, were even drinking songs, of which last we 

probably written with little reference have, considering all things, marvel- 

t» the music which waa to be append- lously few good specimens. Yet the 

ed ta mem. The crude and half bar- joyous and social spirit which is the 

science, which at once forma- spring of conviviality, would seem to 

and complicated the music of the be well adapted for lyrical and musical 

would afford little encouragement expression. 

ta ryrica. If we except a few excellent songs, 

Milton indeed appears to have ad- which are certainly to be found scat- 

nrired the rather more modern " Ayrea" tered throughout the pages of English 

af " Master Henry Lawes," but if poetry, and the admirable specimens 

crabbed passages and awkward which are preserved amongst the early 

ballada, B 

Queen Elizabeth's lea- Scottish ballada, Robert Burns may be 

the virginals are to be taken styled the first good song writer that 

of the taste of her times, has appeared. Not that Allan Ram- 

_ mentation, in any shape, say is to be forgotten, many of whose 

I think, have been of rare oc- songs, as for instance, " Woes my 

Whether or not any of the heart that we should sunder," and 

aire of that period have come others in " the Gentle Shepherd," are 

to as, I da not know. It seems, of considerable poetical, as well aa 

r, swffirifTitly evident, that En- lyrical merit. — But Burns, besides his 

aw never perfected a national genius aa a poet, seems to have hit, 

style of nuraic, and to this may be in almost by a sort of instinct, upon the 

■art attributed the scarcity of good true principles of this department tf 

ryrica in English poetry. writing. From these he \vaa nxeVf 

84 Buoy on Sang Writing. Opril 

deviated. In his songs is displayed nor melodies; but his Lordship osa 
that continuity of passion or of pa- well afford to suffer for the misnomer, 
thetic sentiment, or of joyous or of Of the dramatic songs of the present 
humorous feeling, expressed in sira- day I hardly know how to speak, for 
pie, yet bold and original language, I have nothing good to say of them, 
which constitutes the beau ideal of At far as they include scientific dif« 
lyrieal composition. I would particu- Acuities, they may be interesting to a 
larly instance, " Here's a health to few, but they are " caviar to the go* 
ane I lo'e dear ;" " From thee, Eliza, neral." The words are, for the moat 
I must go ;" " Will ye gae to the In- part, wisely drowned in the accom* 
dies ;" " Ae fond kiss, an' than we paniments, and " let them there Ik 
•ever ;" and, " O Tibbie, I hae seen mudded." I shall not attempt to die* 
the day;" as examples of perfect songs, turb their repose. Of the said aceom* 
The ballad, " When wild war's deadly paniment, I would say, the fuller the 
blast;" " When Januar' winds; better. The ear which would soon 
though poetical chef d'ceuvres, are sicken upon the thin diet, " the wa* 
lyrieal failures. A few parts only ac- ter-brose or muslin-kail" of unmeant 
cord with the expression of the airs, ing lines to an unmeaning air, is ex* 
and the narrative stanzas which com- cited and kept in good humour by the 
mence and conclude the poems, pro- stimulus of the harmony. When a 
duce, when sung, a dreary discord. song is sung with a full accompani* 
* The songs of Moore are in a differ- ment, the difficulty of judgment is 
ent style. They will probably long much increased, the general excite** 
be the models of future cultivators of ment of the accompanying chords sup* 
English lyre poetry, of which general- plying the want of pleasurable expres* 
ly speaking, they are the most perfect sion in the air. This power of gene** 
specimens. By his felicitous ease of ral harmonic excitement is best proved 
expression, Moore has freed his ori- by the fact of its being known to pro* 
ginality from that apparent artifice or duce an effect, even in direct opposi* 
labour which is fatal to the effect of a tion to the excitement of the air and 
song. His tact, also, in adapting the words which it is intended to assiaL 
train of sentiment to the air is equal to Of this the autobiography of the cele- 
that of Burns. They are the twin brated Alfieri affords a singular and 
stars, the Castor and Pollux of the striking instance. Having before de» 
British lyre. It is almost needless to scribed the tendency to depression of 
point out individual songs of this poet, spirits to which he was early subject, 
as especially displaying that exquisite he says, " By this subterfuge I had 
union of poetical and of musical ex- the pleasure of hearing the Opera Buf- 
pression, with which they all, more fa of Mercato di Malmantile. It was 
or less, abound. I cannot, however, composed by a celebrated master, and 
resist mentioning, " Oh ! breathe not performed by the first singers of Italy, 
.his name ;" " When he that adores Carratoli Baglioni, and her daughters* 
thee ; M and last and best, " Go where This varied and enchanting music 
glory waits thee;" nor do I envy those sunk deep into my soul, and made the 
who possess stoicism so great, or sym- most astonishing impression on my 
pathies so small, as to hear these me- imagination ; it agitated the inmost 
todies sung, without experiencing recesses of my heart to such a degree, 
some of the strongest emotions that that for several weeks I experienced 
genius has ever united to language, the most profound melancholy, which 
In the song, " Let them rail at this was not however wholly unattended 
life," Mr Moore has suflered his sati- with pleasure."— Chap. V. 2d Epoch, 
rical vein to entice him into a breach Again, after he had advanced to man* 
of the continuity of sentiment The hood, and his constitutional tendency 
air is one of unmixed, though affec- to melancholy and nervous depression 
donate and feeling, cheerfulness, and had more decidedly developed itself, 
ill bears the sarcastic turn which de- he says, " My greatest pleasure con- 
forms the concluding stanza. Amongst sisted in attending the Opera Buffs, 
the English lyrists, however, this au- though the gay and lively music left 
thor is unrivalled. He is worthy of a deep and melancholy impression on 
the melodies of Ireland, and they of my mind."— Chap. II. 3d Epoch. The 
him. After these, Byron's Hebrew rationale of this seemingly anomalous 
Melodies must not be named. To say result I take to be shortly this— that 
the truth, they are neither Hebrew the melancholic tendency which tlie 


Estay on Song Writing. 

livery nm failed to overcome, was attempts to clothe grave thoughts in 

exacerbated by the harmony of the seaman's phraseology, good taste will 

accompaniments ; inasmuch as gene- always revolt In one of his songs, 

nl stimulants increase the predomi- the resurrection is actually thus allud- 

nsfit description of feeling of the mind ed to. — 

to which they are applied ; as for in- " When he hears the last whistle? 

sssce, drinking spirituous liquors is Hell come upon deck." 

wdD known to heighten instead of al- One might as well think of extracting 

krating the horrors of a shipwreck. the sublime from a shopboard. 

Hie songs of the Beggar s Opera are •• Oh ! penny pipers, and most painful 

probably the most happy of dramatic penners 

lyrics. They are indeed the only Of bountiful new ballads, what a subject ! H 

English operatic songs that have be- But, to be serious — with vulgar slang 

esse really and permanently popular, grave interest can never amalgamate. 

TV airs of " Woman is like a fair Divested of this, however, I do not see 

iswer in its lustre," " I like the fox why the peculiar vicissitudes of a 

snU grieve," and, " Can love be con- sailor s life might not give variety to 

soiled by advice ?** are in themselves the lyric muse, or why the exploits 

bemtrfal, without reference to the pe- of the " Vikingr," whether of good 

caosrities of die plot of the piece. For old Saxon or more modern times, are 

the right appreciation of the duet of not as capable of tuneful commemora* 

" The Miser thus," and of the song tion as those of heroes upon dry land, 

of" The Charge is prepared," it must Campbell's " Battle of the Baltic," I 

be recollected, that we set out with a have read a hundred times, but have 

sjehwayman for a hero, and the whole never seen the music, if there is any 

action is under the atmosphere of New- appended to it. The Storm of G« A, 

pie. The songs of the Duenna I Stevens, too, no doubt contains pas* 

nst always regard as the weakest part sages of high lyrical merit ; but it is, 

of that performance, nor will the Ele- upon the whole, by far too much of a 

gscs of Burgoyne and Jackson of Exe- ballad. Black-eyed Susan, and Glo- 

tef, in the Lord of the Manor, go far ver's Admiral Hosier's Ghost, are, I 

to redeem the English opera from the think, hardly to be classed as sea 

nediocrity which seems to be its fate, songs. The scenes, to be sure, are 

Indedon and Dibdin did their best laid on board of ship, but they em- 

to make sea songs popular, and for a body no feelings or incidents of any 

while they succeeded. Dibdin, how- consequence, which are peculiar to a 

ever, wanted judgment, for, from his sea life.-—! am, &c. D. T. 


Wax* fintl sought that smile of brightness, 
Mote pleasing haply from its lightness, 
I sad bat felt a transient grief, 
To drink our love might be as brief. 

Far tho* mine eyes, as now, were beaming, 
Ob ! Leila, I was tar from dreaming, 
last thou would'st claim, when we should 

Salavat a portion of my heart* 

MaraoocjM the iea my breast defended 
WssJd only make its fires more splendid, 
As s— beams that in winter glow, 
Glance brightest from the wreathed snow. 

ah 1 my bosom, which before 
so tightly to adore, 
WssM now perversely have thee be 


And, at the harp's enlivened strain 
Doth oft to melancholy wane 
Without the players will or care— 
80 I am sad, ere well aware* 

Alas ! though I had ever known 
My buried heart was turn'd to stone, 
I might have known that this would prove 
No hindrance to the growth of love. 

Which to the flinty rock will cling, 
And as the slender lichens spring, 
Obtaining life one knows not where, 
Strike root, and live, and flourish there : 

Or say the fragile verdure drew 
Its being from the air and dew ; 
So love its tender leaf uproars, 
Sown but by sighs, and fed with tears. 

elegy 11. 

!r fiat will tear thee from my heart, 
Without a warning sign depart, 
Far 1 cam give no answering sign, 
Me? ranker a farewell to thine 
Vol. VII. 

If the last wafture of thy hand 
Could let my soul forth where I stand. 
If the stabb'd heart would truly bleed, 
Then kindness would be kind indeed* 


36* Elegies. 

Were death to part at, I could rest 
My sinking bead upon thy breast. 
And when the agony was past. 
My gaie would fade from thine at last 
Bat, oh ! what other pow'r shall break' 
My lips* last hold upon thy cheek, . 
Or loose my stiffen 'a arms that strain 
Thy waist in griefs convulsive pain— 
Or from my shoulder's resting place 
Turn that pale tear-besullied face, 
Or part our trembling hands that clasp 
Their latest and long-ling'ring grasp. 

If fate will tear thee from my heart. 
Without a warning sign depart, 
For I can give no answering sign, 
Nor faulter a farewell to thine. 

Thou watt like angel here below, 
And from me, angel-like, must go, 
That, losing, I may know, not how. 
Bat that thou art no longer now. 


Nor let it dwell with thee— nor pine 
That thou hast no adieu of mine ; 
Ev'n from thyself thy going hide, 
Think thou art here, and I have died. 

Count me no longer to be one 
Whom earthly airs will breathe upon ; 
But keep, when thou hast ceas'd to grieve, 
The legacy of love I leave. 

Yes— so preserve my every sigh, 
Stored deeply in thy memory, 
So hold my love, since we must part, 
As if thou had'st embalm'd my heart. 

May he to whom kind Heav'n shall give 
Once more to bid thy wishes live, 
And wake that eye's soft rav, serene, 
Be to thee— what 1 would have been. 

Give thou to him, with thine, the heart 
Thou takest from me, now we part ; 
Give it, and, of that heart possess't, 
He shall be true as well as blest. D. T. 

The following touching Verses are taken from a Newcastle Newspaper, the " Tyne 



It was upon a wintVy morn,— 
When snow flakes on the wind were borne, 
The keen black frost had scarcely failed, 
And sleet and rain by turns assailed— 
I marked, as where in warmth I stood, 
And the sight did almost freeze my blood, 
A little infant, on a stone, 
Chilled and shivering, sat alone. 

The snow fell thick and fast, yet he 
Did never speak, but piteously 
Upon each passer, with a sigh, 
Bent his little, tearful eye- 
Vet dt him notice none was taken, 
He seemed to be by all forsaken, 
As cold and shivering on the stone, 
The little sufferer sat alone. 

He asked not aid— he looked for one 
Who came not— who, alas ! was gone 
For ever from him— ne'er was he 
Again that guilty one to see, 
Nor e'er again was that sweet boy 
To warm his mother's heart with joy— 
For she, that morn, upon that stone, 
Had left him there to sit alone. 

At length his fears his silence broke, 
And thus the little lost one spoke : 
• Alas ! methinks she lingers long— 
I cannot see her in the throng, 
I strain my eyes to look in vain, 
Alas ! she will not come again— 
And yet she promised, when alone 
She left me sitting on mis stone. 

u Oh, mother ! come to me, for I 
Am cold— and si c k and verily 
Methinks the night begins to foil, 
For darkness shuts me out from all 
I saw before— I feel not now 
The damp snow foiling on my brow, 
And sure the cold has left this stone, 
Where I have sat so long alone. 

" Come, mother, come ! nor tarry longer, 
For oh ! this weakness grows still stronger ; 
Come, mother ! take me to my home- 
How faint I am — come — mother— come." 
He said no more— his little breast 
Heaved but once, then sunk to rest. 
Now calm, and colder than the stone 
Where first he sat, he lies alone. 

But soon that wretched mother came. 
With her eyes in tears and her heart inflame; 
And — God ! — how she stood in mute surprise 
When first the vision met her eyes. 
When first his little face she knew—. 
So chang'd from the last and lovely hue 
It wore that morn, when she left him alone, 
In tempest and storm, on a damp cold stone. 

But who shall tell the pangs she felt, 
As madly in the snow she Knelt 
And clasp 'd him round, in her deep distress, 
In all his chilling iciness ?— 
The tear at once forsook her eye, 
And she rais'd a harsh and horrid cry, 
That seem'd on its rushing wing to beat 
The last of her knowledge of grief and care. 

Oh ! ne'er will she taste sweet rest again— 
For madness reigns in her troubled brain. 
For her boy she calls through day and night { 
In coldness— in darkn ess i n pale moon- 

" My boy !— my boy !— have you teen my 

boy ?" 
Not another thought doesher mind employ— 
Not a gleam of hope from the past can she 

As she wanders along in the grasp of her 


Ncncartky Dec, 2. 

IttO.J The Snow Storm. 37 


" Tii only from the belief of the goodness and wisdom of a Supreme Being, that our 
he borne in that manner which becomes a man."— Heney Mackenzie. 

Iy Summer there is beauty in the that modify or constitute the existence 

wildest moors of Scotland, and the of the poor. 

wayfaring man who sits down for an I have a short and simple story to 

hour's rest beside some little spring tell of the winter-life of the moorland 

that flows unheard through the cottager — a story but of one evening 

brightened moss and water-cresses, — with few events and no signal catas- 

feels his weary heart revived by the trophe — but which may haply please 

silent, serene, and solitary prospect those hearts whose delight it is to 

On every side sweet sunny spots of think on the humble under-plots that 

verdure smile towards him from a- are carrying on in the great Drama of 

mong the melancholy heather— unex- Life. 

pectedly in the solitude a stray sheep, Two cottagers, husband and wife, 

it may be with its lambs, starts half- were sitting by their cheerful peat- 

akrmed at his motionless figure — in* fire one winter evening, in a small 

sects large, bright, and beautiful come lonely hut on the edge of a wide moor, 

careering by him through the desert at some miles distance from any other 

sir — nor does the Wild want its own habitation. There had been, at one 

songsters, the grey linnet, fond of the time, several huts of the same kind 

blooming furze, and now and then the erected close together, and inhabited 

lark mounting up to heaven above the by families of the poorest class of day- 

nnnmits of the green pastoral hills, labourers who found work among the 

During such a sunshiny hour, the distant farms, and at night returned 

looclv cottage on the waste seems to to dwellings which were rent-free, 

oana in a paradise ; and as he rises with their little gardens won from the 

to pursue his journey, the traveller waste. But one family after another 

looks back and blesses it with a had dwindled away, and the turf-built 

mingled emotion of delight and envy, huts had all fallen into ruins, except 

There, thinks he, abide the children one that had always stood in the cen- 

cf Innocence and Contentment, the tre of this little solitary village, with 

two most benign spirits that watch its summer-walls covered with the 

over human life. richest honeysuckles, and in the midst 

But other thoughts arise in the of the brightest of all the gardens. It 
■and of him who may chance to jour- alone now sent up its smoke into the 
ney through the same scene in the de- clear winter sky — and its little end- 
tocstkm of Winter. The cold bleak window, now lighted up, was the on- 
sly girdles the moor as with a belt of ly ground star thai shone towarcjs the 
ice— life is frozen in air and on earth, belated traveller, if any such ventured 
The silence is not of repose but ex- to cross, on a winter night, a scene so 
unction— -and should a solitary human dreary and desolate. The affairs of 
dwelling catch his eve half-buried in the small household were all arranged 
me snow, he is sad for the sake of for the night The little rough poney 
them whose destiny it is to abide far that had drawn in a sledge, from the 
from the cheerful haunts of men, heart of the Black-Moss, the fuel by 
shrouded op in melancholy, by po- whose blaze the cotters were now sit- 
verty held in thrall, or pining away ting cheerily, and the little Highland 
in usrrtaited and untended disease. cow, whose milk enabled them to live, 

But, in good truth, the heart of were standing amicably together, un- 

human life is but imperfectly discov- der cover of a rude shed, of which one 

end from its countenance ; and before side was formed by the peat-stack, 

we can know what the summer, or and which was at once byre, and sta- 

whtt the winter yields for enjoyment ble, and hen-roost. Within, the clock 

or trial to our country's peasantry, ticked cheerfully as the fire-light 

we most have conversed with them in reached its old oak-wood case across 

their fields and by their firesides ; and the yellow-sanded floor— aud a small 

made ourselves acquainted with the round table stood between, covered 

powerful ministry of the Seasons, not with a snow-white cloth, on which 

ever those objects alone that feed die were milk and oat-cakes, the morning, 

eye and the imagination, but over all mid-day, and evening meal of these 

the incidents, occupations, aud events frugal and contented cotters, TYve 

3§ The Snow Storm. CM** 1 

spades and the mattocks of the la- venerated. With gashing tenderness 
bourer were collected into one comer, was now mingled a holy fear and an. 
and showed that the succeeding day awful reverence. She had discerned 
was the blessed Sabbath — while on the relation in which she an only 
the wooden chimney-piece was seen child stood to her poor parents now- 
lying an open Bible ready for family that they were getting old, and there 
Worship. was not a passage in Scripture that 

The father and the mother were spake of parents or of children, from 

sitting together without opening Joseph sold into slavery, to Mary 

their lips, but with their hearts over- weeping below the Cross, that was not 

flowing with happiness, for on this written, never to be obliterated, on 

Saturday-night they were, every rai- her uncorrupted heart 

nute, expecting to hear at the latch The father rose from his seat, and 

the hand of their only daughter, a went to the door to look out into the 

maiden of about fifteen years, who was night. The stars were in thousands 

at service with a farmer over the hills. — and the full moon was risen. It 

This dutiful child was, as they knew, was almost light as day, and the snow, 

to bring home to them " her sair- that seemed encrusted with diamonds, 

worn penny fee," a pittance whioh, in was so hardened by the frost, that his 

the beauty of her girl-hood, she earn- daughter's homeward feet would leave 

ed singing at her work, and which, in no mark on its surface. He had been 

the benignity of that sinless time, she toiling all day among the distant Cas- 

would pour with tears into the bosoms tie- woods, and, stiff and wearied as he 

she so dearly loved. Forty shillings now was, he was almost tempted to go 

a-year were all the wages of sweet Han- to meet his child — but his wife's kind 

nan Lee — but though she wore at her la- voice dissuaded him, and returning to 

boor a tortoise-shell comb in her au- the fireside, they began to talk of her 

burn hair, and though in the kirk none whose image had been so long passing 

were more becomingly arrayed than before them in their silence. 

ahe ; one half, at least, of her earnings " She is growing up to be a bonny 

were to be reserved for the holiest of lassie," said the mother, " her long 

all purposes, and her kind innocent and weary attendance on me during 

heart was gladdened when she looked my fever last spring kept her down 

on the little purse that was, on the awhile— -but now she is sprouting fast 

long-expected Saturday-night, to be and fair as a lily., and may the bless- 

taken from her bosom, and put, with ing of God be as dew and as sunshine 

a blessing, into the hand of her father, to our sweet flower all the days she 

now growing old at his daily toils. bloometh upon this earth/' " Aye, 

Of such a child the happy cotters Agnes," replied the father, " we are 
were thinking in their silence. And not very old yet — though we are get- 
well indeed might they be called hap- ting older — and a few years will bring 
py. It is at that sweet season that her to woman's estate, and what thing 
filial piety is most beautiful. Their on this earth, think ye, human or 
own Hannah had just outgrown the brute, would ever think of injuring 
mere unthinking gladness of child- her ? Why, I was speaking about her 
hood, but had not yet reached that yesterday to the minister as he was 
time, when inevitable selfishness mixes riding by, and he told me that none 
with the pure current of love. She answered at the Examination in the 
had begun to think on what her af- Kirk so well as Hannah. Poor thing— 
ftctionate heart had felt so long ; and I well think she has all the bible by 
when she looked on the pale face and heart — indeed, she has read but little 
bending frame of her mother, on the else— only some stories, too true ones, 
deepening wrinkles and whitening hairs of the blessed martyrs, and some o' 
of ner rather, often would she lie the auld sangs o* Scotland, in which 
weeping tor their sakes on her there is nothing but what is good, and 
midnight bed— and wish that she which, to be sure, she sings, God bless 
Were beside them as they slept, that her, sweeter than any laverock." " Aye 
she might kneel down and kiss —were we both to die this very night 
fheni, and mention their names over she would be happy. Not that she 
and over again in her prayer. The would forget us, all the days of her 
oarents whom before she had only life. But have you not seen, husband! 

*e4, her expanding heart now also that God always makes the orphan 

1890.]] The Snow Storm. 30 

happy? None so little lonesome as angry sky. As she kept gaxing, it be- 
they ! They come to make friends o' came still more terrible. Tne last 
aD the bonny and sweet things in the shred of blue was extinguished — the 
world around them, and all the kind wind went whirling in roaring eddies, 
starts in the world make friends o' and great flakes of snow circled about 
tsem. They come to know that God in the middle air, whether drifted up 
k more especially the father o' them from the ground, or driven down from 
sa earth whose parents he has taken the clouds, the fear-stricken mother 
vp to heaven — and therefore it is knew not, but she at least knew, that 
tart they for whom so many have it seemed a night of danger, despair, 
fan, fear not at all for themselves, and death. " Lord have mercy on us, 
Vat go dancing and singing along like James, what will become of our poor 
children whose parents are both alive! bairn!" But her husband heard not 
Would it not be so with our dear her words, for he was already out of 
Htnnah ? So douce and thoughtful sight in the snow-storm, and she was 
i child — bat never sad nor miserable left to the terror of her own soul in 
—ready it is true to shed tears for that lonesome cottage, 
little, but as ready to dry them up and Little Hannah Lee had left her 
break out into smiles ! I know not master's house, soon as the rim of the 
why it is, husband, but this night great moon was seen by her eyes, that 
■y heart warms toward her beyond had been long anxiously watching it 
anaL The moon and stars are at from the window, rising, like a joyful 
this moment looking down upon her, dream, over the gloomy mountain-tops; 
ad she looking up to them, as she and all by herself she tripped along be- 
■ glinting homewards over the snow, neath the beauty of the silent heaven. 
I wish she were but here, and taking Still as she kept ascending and descend- 
ike comb out o' her bonny hair and ing the knolls that lay in the bosom of 
letting it all fall down in clusters the glen, she sung to herself a song, a 
before the fire, to melt away the cran- hymn, or a psalm, without the accom- 
reuch !" panhnent of the streams, now all silent 
While the parents were thus speak- in the frost; and ever and anon she 
aw of their daughter, a loud sugh of stopped to try to count the stars that 
nod came suddenly over the cottage, lay in some more beautiful part of the 
Sad die leafless ash-tree under whose aky, or gazed on the constellations that 
aYelfier it stood, creaked and groaned she knew, and called them, in her joy, 
dismally as it passed by. The father by the names they bore among the 
started op, and going again to the door, shepherds. There were none to hear 
mr that a sadden change had come her voice, or see her smiles, but the ear 
tftr the face of the night. The moon and eye of providence. As on she 
bad nearly disappeared, and was just glided, and took her looks from heaven, 
visible in m dim, yellow, glimmering she saw her own little fireside — her 
den hi the sky. AH the remote stars parents waiting for her arrival — the 
vere obscured, and only one or two bible opened for worship— her own 
sandy see med in a sky that half-an- little room kept so neatly for her, with 
hour before was perfectly cloudless, its mirror hanging by the window, in 
but that was now driving with rack, which to braid her hair by the morn- 
sad mist, and sleet, the whole atmos- ing light — her bed prepared for her 
{here being in commotion. He stood by her mother's hand — the primroses 
mr s single moment to observe the di- in her garden peeping through the 
icction of this unforeseen storm, and snow— old Tray, who ever welcomed 
men hastily asked for his staff. " I her home with nis dim white eyes- 
thought I had been more weather- the poney and the cow ; — friends all, 
wise A storm is coming down from and inmates of that happy household. 
the Cairnbrae-hawae, anefwe shall have So stepped she along, while the snow- 
nothing but a wild night" He men diamonds glittered around her feet, 
whistled on bis dog— an old sheep- and the frost wove a wreath of lucid 
dor, too old for its former labours — pearls around her forehead, 
and set off to meet his daughter, who She had now reached the edge of 
nught then, for ought he knew, be the Black-moss, which lay half way 
crossing the Black-moss. Hie mother between her master's and her father a 
aeoasnpsnied her husband to the door, dwelling, when she heard a loud noise 
sad took a long frightened look at the coming down Glen-Scrae, and in a. ton 

10 The Snow Storm. C April 

seconds she felt on her face some flakes in some quiet nook among the pastoral 
of snow. She looked up the glen, and hills. But now there was to be an 
saw the snow-storm coming down, fast end of all this, — she was to be frozen 
as a flood. She felt no fears ; but she to death — and lie there till the thaw 
ceased her song ; and had there been might come ; and then her father 
a human eye to look upon her there, would find her body, and carry it 
it might nave seen a shadow on her awa T to be buried in the kirk-yard, 
face. She continued her course, and Tne tears were frozen on her cheeks 
felt bolder and bolder every step that as soon as shed, — and scarcely had her 
brought her nearer to her parents' little hands strength to clasp them- 
house. But the snow* storm had now selves together, as the thought of an 
reached the Black-moss, and the broad over-ruling and merciful hord came 
line of light that had lain in the direc- across herTieart. Then, indeed, the 
tion of her home, was soon swallowed fears of this religious child were calm- 
up, and the child was in utter dark- ed, and she heard without terror the 
ness. She saw nothing but the flakes plover's wailing cry, and the deep boom 
of snow, interminably intermingled, of the bittern sounding in the most, 
and furiously wafted in the air, close " I will repeat the Lord's Prayer." 
to her head ; she heard nothing but And drawing her plaid more closely 
one wild, fierce, fitful howl. The around her, she whispered, beneath its 
cold became intense, and her little feet ineffectual cover; " Our father which 
and hands were fast being benumbed art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, 
into insensibility. —thy kingdom come,— -thy will be 

" It is a fearful change," muttered done on earth as it is in heaven." Had 

the child to herself, but still she did human aid been within fifty yards, it 

not fear, for she had been born in a could have been of no avail— eye could 

moorland cottage, and lived all her not see her— ear could not hear her in 

days among the hardships of the hills, that howling darkness. But that low 

" what will become of the poor prayer was heard in the centre of eter- 

aheep," thought she, — but still she nity, — and that little sinless child was 

scarcely thought of her own danger, lying in the snow, beneath the all-see- 

for innocence, and youth, and joy, are ing eye of God. 

alow to think of aught evil befalling The maiden having prayed to her 

themselves, and thinking benignly of Father in Heaven — then thought of 

all living things, forget their own fear her father on earth. Alas ! they were 

in their pity of others' sorrow. Atjast, not far separated! The father was 

she could no longer discern a single- tying but a short distance from his 

mark on the snow, either of human cnild ; — he too had sunk down in the 

steps, or of sheep-track, or the foot- drifting snow, after having, in less 

print of a wild-fowl. Suddenly, too, than an hour, exhausted all the 

she felt out of breath and exhausted, — strength of fear, pity, hone, despair, 

and shedding tears for herself at last, and resignation, that could rise in a 

sank down in the snow. father's heart blindly seeking to rescue 

It was now that her heart began to his only child from death, thinking 
quake with fear. She remembered that one desperate exertion might 
stories of shepherds lost in the snow,-— enable them to perish in each other's 
of a mother and child frozen to death arms. There they lay, within a stone's 
on that very moor,— and, in a mo- throw of each other, while a huge 
ment, she knew that she was to die. snow-drift was every moment piling 
Bitterly did the poor child weep, for itself up into a more insurmountable 
death was terrible to her, who, though barrier between the dying parent and 
poor, enjoyed the bright little world his dying child. 
of youth and innocence. The skies of There was all this while a blazing 
heaven were dearer than she knew to fire in the cottage — a white spread 
her/— so were the flowers of earth, table — and beds prepared for the fa- 
She had been happy at her work,— mily to lie down in peace. Tet was 
happy in her sleep,— happy in the kirk she who sat therein more to be pitied 
on Sabbath. A thousand thoughts than the old man and the child stretch- 
had die solitary child, — and in her own ed upon the snow. " I will not go to 
heart was a spring of happiness, pure seek them— that would be tempting 
and undisturbed as any fount that providence—and wilfully putting out 
sparkles unseen all the year through the lamp of life. Ho! I will abide 


The Snow Storm. 41 

id pray for their tools !" Then, friendship, for which he had been glad 
knelt down, looked she at the of an excuse. Death stared him in 
fire burning away to cheerfully, the face, and his young soul, now be- 
ll the loved might be dying of ginning to feel all the passions of youth, 
ad unable to bear the thought, was filled with phrenzy. He had seen 
ekedout sprayer, as if ghemight Hannah every day— at the fireside- 
he sky up to the very throne at work — in tne lurk— on holidays — at 
, and send with it her own mi- prayers— 'bringing supper to his aged 

soul to plead before him for parents— smiling and singing about 

iterance of her child and hus- the house from morning till night. 

She then fell down in blessed She had often brought his own meal to 
llnesa of all trouble, in the him among the hills— and he now found 
of the solitary cheerfulness of that though he had never talked to her 
>ight-biirmng hearth— and the about love, except smilingly and play- 
wnich she had been trying to fully, that he loved her beyond father 
i the pauses of her agony, re- or mother or his own soul. " I will 
1 clasped in her hands. save thee, Hannah," he cried with a 
nab Lee had been a servant for loud sob, " or lie down beside thee 
ban six months — and it was not in the snow — and we will die together 
bought that she was not beloved in our youth." A wild whistling wind 
master's family. Soon after she went by him, and the snow-flakes 
\ the house, her master's son, whirled so fiercely round his head, that 
it of about eighteen years, who he staggered on for a while in utter 
en among the hills looking after blindness. He knew the path that 
«p, came home, and was disap- Hannah must have taken, and went 
I to find that he had lost an forwards shouting aloud, and stopping 
mity of accompanying Hannah every twenty yards to listen for a 
the way to her father a cottage, voice. He sent his well-trained dogs 
e hour of eight had gone by, over the snow in all directions— re- 
ft even the company of young peating to them her name, " Han- 
oi Grieve could induce the kind- nan Lee," that the dumb animals 
I daughter to delay setting out might, in their sagacity, know for 
journey a few minutes beyond whom they were searching ; and aa 
m promised to her parents. " I they looked ' up in his face, and set 
like the night," said William — off to scour the moor, he almost be- 
swill be a fresh fell of snow soon, lieved that they knew his meaning 
witch of Glen Scrae is a liar, (and it is probable they did) and 
dow cloud is hanging o'er the were eager to find in her bewilder- 
tree-linn, and it may be down ment the kind maiden by whose hand 
Black-moss as soon as Hannah they had so often been fed. Often 

So he called his two sheep- went they off into the darkness, and 

hat had taken their place under as often returned, but their looks 

ig-table before the window, and shewed that every quest had been in 

t, half in joy, half in fear, to vain. Meanwhile tne snow was of a 

be Hannah, and see her safely fearful depth, and falling without in- 

the Black-moss. termission or diminution. Had the 

i mow began to drift so fast, young shepherd been thus alone, 

eftre he had reached the head of walking across the moor on his ordi- 

ea, there was nothing to be seen nary business, it is probable that he 

little hit of the wooden rail might have been alarmed for his own 

bridge across the Sauch-burn. safety — nay that, in spite of all his 

on Grieve was the most active strength and agility, he might have 

■Ed in a large pastoral parish-— sunk down beneath the inclemency of 

1 often past the night among the the night and perished. But now 

Entry bibs for the sake of a few the passion of his soul carried him 

, and all the snow that ever fell with supernatural strength along, and 

he aven would not have made extricated him from wreath and pitfal. 

am back when Hannah Lee was Still there was no trace of poor Han- 

: him ; and at his terrified heart nan Lee— and one of his dogs at last 

im, in eminent danger of being came close to his feet, worn out en- 

'Am he advanced, ne felt that tirely, and afraid to leave its master— 

i no longer a walk of love or while the other was mute," anu> as 

4ft The Snow Storm. £ April 

the shepherd thought, probably ana- and lifting the cold corpse in his arms, 
bk to force its way out of some hoi- he kissed ner lips, and her cheeks, and 
low or through some floundering her forehead, and her closed eyes, till, 
drift. Then he all at once knew that as he kept gazing on her face in utter 
Hannah Lee was dead — and dashed despair, her head fell back on his shoul- 
himself down in the snow in a fit of der, and a long deep sigh came from 
passion. It was the first time that her inmost bosom. " She is yet alive, 
the youth had ever been sorely tried thank God !" — and as that expression 
—-all his hidden and unconscious love left his lips for the first time that 
for the fair lost girl had flowed up night, he felt a pang of remorse: 
from the bottom of his heart — and at " 1 said, O God, that thou hadst for- 
once the sole object which had blessed saken us — I am not worthy to be sav- 
his life and made him the happiest of ed ; but let not this maiden perish, for 
the happy, was taken away and cruelly the sake of her parents, who have no 
destroyed— 60 that sullen, wrathful, other child." The distracted youth 
baffled, and despairing, there he lay prayed to God with the same earnest- 
cursing his existence, and in too great ness as if he had been beseeching a 
agony to think of prayer. " God," fellow-creature, in whose hand was the 
he then thought, " has forsaken me-— power of life and of death. The pre- 
and why should he think on me, when sence of the Great Being was felt by 
lie suffers one so good and beautiful as him in the dark and howling wild, and 
Hannah to be frozen to death." God strength was imparted to him as to a 
thought both of him and Hannah — deliverer. He bore along the fair 
and through his infinite mercy forgave child in his arms, even as if she had 
the sinner in his wild turbulence of been a lamb. The snow-drift blew 
passion. William Grieve had never not — the wind fell dead — a sort of 
gone to bed without joining in prayer glimmer, like that of an upbreaking 
— and he revered the Sabbath-day and and disparting storm, gathered about 
kept it holy. Much is forgiven to him — his dogs barked, and jumped, 
the human heart by him who so fear- and burrowed joyfully in the snow- 
fully framed it ; and God is not slow and the youth, strong in sudden hope, 
to pardon the love which one human exclaimed, " With the blessing of 
being bears to another, in his frailty God, who has not deserted us in our 
—even though that love forget or ar- sore distress, will I carry thee, Han- 
raign his own unsleeping providence, nah, in my arms, and lay thee down 
His voice has told us to love one ano- alive in the house of thy rather." At 
ther — and William loved Hannah in this moment there were no stars 
simplicity, innocence, and truth. That in heaven, but she opened her dim 
she should perish was a thought so blue eyes upon him in whose bosom 
dreadful, that, in its agony, God she was unconsciously lying, and said, 
seemed a ruthless being — " blow — as in a dream, " Send the ribbon that 
blow — blow — and drift us up for ever ties up my hair, as a keepsake to Wil- 
-r-we cannot be far asunder— O Han- liam Grieve." " She thinks that she is 
nah— Hannah — think ye not that the on her death-bed, and forgets not the son 
fearful God has forsaken us ?" of her master. It is the voice of God 

As the boy groaned these words that tells me she will not now die, and 

passionately through his quivering that, under His grace, I shall be her 

frps, there was a sudden lowness in deliverer." 

toe air, and he heard the barking of The short-lived rage of the storm 
his absent dog, while the one at his was soon over, and William could at- 
feet hurried off in the direction of the tend to the beloved being on his bo- 
sound, and soon loudly joined the som. The warmth of his heart seem- 
ery. It was not a bark of surprise — ed to infuse life into her's ; and as he 
or anger— or fear — but of recognition gently placed her feet on the snow, till 
and love. William sprung up from he muffled her up in his pi aid, as well as 
his bed in the snow, and with his in her own, she made an effort to stand, 
heart knocking at his bosom even to and with extreme perplexity and be- 
aickness, he rushed headlong through wilderment faintly inquired, where 
the drifts, with a giant's strength, and she was, and what fearful catastrophe 
fell down half dead with joy and ter- had befallen them ? She was, how- 
ror beside the body of Hannah Lee. ever, too weak to walk ; and as her 

But he soon recovered from that fit, young master carried her along, she 

NU3 The 8mm Storm: 43 

rt William! what if my kughing between, lflte persons who 

be in the moor?— For if you had known neither danger nor distress, 

who need care eo little about me, have No voice answered from within— 

enne hither, as I suppose, to save my no footstep came to the doer, which 

fife, yon may he sore that my father stood open as when the father had 

sat not within doors daring the left it in his fear, and now he thought 

storm-* As she spoke it was cahn with affright that his wife, feeble as she 

talew, but the wind was still alive in was, had been unable to rapport the 

the upper afcr, and cloud, nek, mist, loneliness, and had followed nim out 

andaieet, were all driving about in the into the night, never to be brought 

sky. Ont shone for a moment the home alive. As they bore Hannah 

paUid and ghostly moon, through a into the house, this fear gave way to 

rent in the gloom, and by that uncer- worse, for there upon the hard day 

Win light, came staggering forward floor lay the mother upon her nee, 

the njnre of a man. " Father— Fa- as if murdered by some savage blow. 

' a *~- cried Hannah— end his gray She was in the same deadly swoon 

already on her cheek. The into which she had fallen on her hue* 

ay on 

harking of die dogs and the shouting band's departure three hours before, 
of the young shepherd had struck his The old man raised her up, and her 
ear, as the sleep of death was stealing pulse was still— so was her heart*" 
over him, and with the last effort of her face pale and sunken— and her 
benumbed nature, he had roused him- body cold as ice. " I have recovered 
self from that fatal torpor, and prest a daughter," said the old man, " but 
through the snow-wreath that had I have lost a wife;" and he carried 
arparated him from his child. As yet her, with a groan, to the bed, on 
they knew not of the danger each had which he laid her lifeless body. The 
entnred,— -but each judged of the o- sight was too much for Hannah, worn 
tier's anflering from their own, and out as she was, and who had hitherto 
father and daughter regarded one ano- been able to support herself in the de- 
ther as creatures rescued, and hardly lightful expectation of gladdening her 
yet rescued, from death. mother's heart by her safe arrival.— 
But a few minutes ago, and the She, too, now swooned away, and, as 
three Iranian beings who loved each she waa placed on the bed beside her 
ether so well, and now feared not to mother, it seemed, indeed, that death, 
cross the Moor in safety, were, aa they disappointed of his prey on the wild 
thought, on their deatn-bede. Deliv- moor, had seized it in the cottage, and 
emace now shone upon them all like by the fireside. The husband knelt 
a gentle fire, dispelling that pleasant down by the bed-side, and held his 
but deadly drowsiness; and the old wife's icy hand in his, while William 
nam waa aeon able to assist William Grieve, appalled and awe-stricken, 
Grieve in leading Hannah along hung over ms Hannah, and inwardly 
taauugh the snow. Her colour and implored God that the night's wild 
her warmth returned, and her lover— adventure might not have so ghastly 
for an might he well now be called— an end. But Hannah's young heart 
felt her heart gently beating against soon began once more to beat— and 
hie aide. Filled as that heart was soon as she came to her recollection, 
with gratitude to God, joy in her de- ahe rose up with a face whiter than 
hverance, love to her father, and ashes and free from all smiles, as if 
affection for her master's son, none had ever played there, and join- 
before had the innocent maiden ed her father and young master in 
what waa happiness and never their efforts to restore her mother to 

s she to forget it The night life. 

almost calm, andfast return- It was the mercy of God that had 

Hi former beauty— when the struck her down to the earth, insensi- 

w the first twinkle of the fire hie to the shrieking winds, and the 

the low window of the Cot- fears that would otherwise have killed 

taas of the Moor. They soon were her. Three hours of that wild storm 

at the garden gate — and to relieve the had passed over her head, and ahe 

heart of the wife and mother within, heard nothing more than if she had 

they talked loudly and cheerfully — been asleep in a breathless night of 

naming each other familiarly, and the summer dew. Not even a dream 
Vol. VII. F 

44 . The Snow 8torm. £>pril 

fed touched bar brain, and when the William and Hannah hid led a life of 

opened her eyes which, aa she thought, trouble and of joy, that had enlarged 

had been hot a moment ihut, the had and kindled their hearts within them 

scarcely time to recal to her recolleo- —and they felt that henceforth thev 

tion the image of her husband rush- were to live wholly lor each others 

ing out into the storm, and of a aakea. His lore was the proud and 

daughter therein lost, till she beheld exulting love of a delirerer who, under 

that Tery husband kneeling tenderly Providence, had eared from the frost 

by her bed-aide, and that Tery daugh- and the snow the innocence and the 

tar smoothing the pillow on winch beauty of which his young passionate 

her aching temples reclined. But she heart had been so desperately enamour- 

. knew from the white stedfrst counte- ed— and he now thought of his own 

nances before her that there had been Hannah Lee ever more moving about 

tribulation and deliverance, and ahe in his father's house, not as a aer- 

looked on the beloved beings minis-- vant, but as a daughter — and when 

: taring bv her bed. aa more fearfully some few happy years had gone by, 

.dear to her from the unimagined dan- his own most beautiful and most loving 

a from which ahe felt assured they wife. The innocent maiden still call- 
been rescued by the arm of the ed him her young master — but was 
Almighty. not ashamed of the holy affection 

There is little need to speak of which ahe now knew that she had long 
retuniing recollection, and returning felt for the fearless youth on whose 
strength. They had all nowpower to bosom she had thought herself dying 
weep, and power to pray. The Bible in that cold and miserable moor, 
had been lying in ita place ready for Her heart leapt within her when she 
• worship— and the father read aloud heard her parents bless him bv his 
that chapter in which is narrated our name— and when he took her hand 
Saviour's act of miraculous power, by into his before them, and vowed be- 
- which he saved Peter from the sea. fere that Power who had that night 
Soon as the solemn thoughts awaken- saved them from the snow, that Han- 
ed by that act of mercy so similar to nah Lee should ere long be his wedded 
that which had rescued themselves wife — she wept and sobbed as if her 
from death had subsided, and they had heart would break in a fit of strange 
all risen np from prayer, they gather- and insupportable happiness. 
ed themselves in gratitude round the The young shepherd rose to bid 
little table which had stood so many them farewell — " my father will think 
hours spread— and exhausted nature I am lost," said he, with a grave 
was strengthened and restored bv a smile, " and my Hannah's mother 
frugal and simple inealpartaken of in knows what it is to fear for a child." 
silent thankfulness. The whole story So nothing was said to detain him, 
of the night was then calmly recited and the family went with him to the 
—and when the mother heard how door. The skies smiled as serenely 
the stripling had followed her sweet aa if a storm had never swept before 
Hannah into the storm, and borne her the stars— the moon was sinking from 
in his arms through a hundred drifted her meridian, but in cloudless splen- 
heaps— end then looked upon her in dour — and the hollow of the hills was 
her pride, so young, so innocent, and hushed as that of heaven. Danger 
ao beautiful, she knew, that were the there was none over the placid night- 
child indeed to become an orphan, scene — the happy youth soon crost the 
there was one, who, if there was either Black- Moss, now perfectly still — and, 
trust in nature, or truth in religion, perhaps, just as he was passing, with 
would guard and cherish her all the a shudder of gratitude, the very spot 
days ofher life. where his sweet Hannah Lee had ao 

It waa not nine o'clock when the nearly perished, she was lying down 

atorm • came down from Glen Scrae to sleep in her innocence, or dreaming 

upon the Black-moss, and now in a of one now dearer to her than all 

pause of silence the clock struck on earth but her parents, 
twelve. Within these three hours E rem us. 

IWpJ ' Moods of the Mind. 45 


No I. 
D*9pondeaeg.—-A Reverie. 

Twas on the evening of an August day, 

A day of clouds ana tempest, that I stood 

Within the shade of over-arching wood, 
My bosom filled with visions of decay; 
Around were strewed the shivered leaves, aH wet ; 

The boughs above were dripping ; and the sky 

Threw down the shadows of despondency,— 
As if all melancholy things were met 

To blast this lower world. I leaned my side 

Against an oak, and sighed o'er human pride ! 

I thought of life, and love, and earthly bliss, 

Of all we pine for, pant for, and pursue, 

And found them like the mist, or matin dew, 
Fading to nothingness in Time's abyss. 
Our fathers, — where are they ? The moss is green 

Upon the tablet that records their worth ; 

They have co-mingled with their parent earth, 
And only in our dreams of yore are seen,— 

Our visions of the by-past, which have fled, 

To leave us wandering 'mid the buried dead. 

I thought of men, who looked upon my nice, 
Breathing, and life-like, breathless now and cold,— 
I heard their voices issuing from the mould, 

Amid the scenes that bear of them no trace. 

I thought of smiling children, who have sat 
All evening on my knees, and pressed my hand, 
Their cherub features and their accents bland,— 

Their innocence,— and their untimely fate ; — 
How soon their flower was cropt, and laid below 
The turf, where daisies spring, and lilies blow. 

I thought of sunless regions, where the day 

Smiles not, and all is dreariness and death ; — 

Of weltering oceans, where the winter's breath 
Beats on the emerald ice, and rocky bay ; 
I thought me of the old times,— of the halls 

Of ancient castles mouldering to the dust — 

Of swords, long used in war, bedimm'd with rusty 
Hanging in danky vaults, upon the walls, 

Where coffined warriors rest, amid the night 

Of darkness, never tinged by morning light. 

Tlie unsheltered cattle lowed upon the plain ;— 

The speckled frog was leaping 'mid the grass, 

Down to the lakelets edge, whose breast of glass 
Was wrinkled only by the tardy rain. 
Dim was the aspect of the sullen sky ;— 

The night scowled gloomier down : — I could not throw 

From off my heart the weary weight of woe, 
But loathed the world, and coveted to die ; 

UghftMiwg only in the earth and air 

Omens of desolation and despair." A 

4* Moods of tkt MM* 

The Woodland Glen. 


The sun is sinking behind the mountain. 

The Erening Star ia bright, 
And the ceaseless gush of die twilight fountain 

Is heard, with calm delight, 
By the spirit, that far from the homes of men, 
Delights im the atffl of the woodland glen. 

When the heart is sullen, and sad, and lonely, 

Mid worldly toil and care ; 
When pleasure, and friendship, and lore forsaking, 

Behind leave blank despair, 
Oh ! fly to the lone, the sequestered spot. 
Where Nature presides, and where man ia not 1 

The hazel, the willow, and birch tree weeping, 

With tresses long and drear, 
Descending from slaty rocks, and steeping 

Their boughs in waters clear ; 
The flap of the night bird skimming by, 
And the drowsy hum of the beetle 


The sound of the gentle rills, that tinkle 

Adown their pebbly beds; 
The aspect of the stars that twinkle, 

The asure gloom that spreads, 
Soften the troubled heart, and sooth 
The wares of the spirit, till all is smooth. 

If sorrow the blossom of manhood wither, 

If fortune prove unkind, 
If the world to thee is estranged, come hither 

And breathe the fragrant wind, 
And learn, that flu* from the snares of men. 
Peace and Liberty dwell in the woodland glen ! 

No HI. 

The Ide of Despair. A Vision. 

Cold blew the noisy winds unceasingly 
Across the waste, where never summer-flower, 
Expanding, spread its bosom to the sun, 
Or drank the freshness of the matin dew ; 
Where never tree was seen to rear its head, 
Branching, nor verdure to overspread the lawn ; 
Where sound was never heard, except the roar 
Of battling elements the sleety north 
When Euros bufieted, or tortured waves 
Lashed foaming on the rocks— except the howl 
Of nunished bears and sea birds; or the crash 

».] Mo$dt 0/ the MintjU 47 

Of froien masses, with o'erwhelming force, 
That, bursting, thundered from the mountain-tops, 
And woke the slumbering echoes from repose. 
A solitary waste — a waste of snows- 
Bleak rocks and frozen waters— desolate, 
Beyond the painter's touch, or poet's thought. 
Dark precipices bound it, giant-like, 
Hiding their snowy scalps amid the clouds, 
And listening to the storms that growled below, 
And to the lazy ocean fathomless, 
In icy greenness, rolling with its waves. 

Sore to the voice of man these barren rocks 
Re-echoed never ! sure, by human steps, 
Were never trodden these eternal snows, 
But silence, slumbering on her mountain, though 
Voiceless, hath governed since the first of time, 
A region darkened with the shadow of death ! 
More bleak and blank, more desolate and drear, 
Than ever fancy conjured to the mind 
Of dreaming murderer, on his midnight coach* 

What moving creature stirs on yonder height, 
And, with his breath, disturbs the solitude ? 
Severed from all communion with mankind, 
For ever severed, like a ghost he stands 
Above the ocean, where he cannot drown ; 
And where, thro' countless labyrinths of years, 
Years that have neither origin nor end, 
Summer nor siinshine, he is doomed to bear 
The burden of bis solitude ; to drink 
The thoughts of gall and bitterness ; to feel 
The curse of immortality ; and long 
For death that mocks him still. His hollow eye, 
His haggard visage, and his flowing beard, 
White as December's billow, wind-enehaftd, 
Bespeak the desolation of his soul ; 
And as the she- wolf, when the hunter's hand 
Hath robbed her of her young, with starting eye, 
And piercing howl, stands maddening in her den, 
So, in the torment, bat without the power 
To utter it unto the winds of heaven. 
Voiceless he stoodV 

The famished bear came by, 
Grinding his teeth in famine ; in the path 
Prostrate he threw himself, and hoped for death 
Turning his eye towards her— 'twas in vain I 
Howling; she fled in cruel mockery, 
And, with remorseless and unnatural rage, 
I saw her rush towards her suckling cubs. 
Dart on them in her hungry wretchedness, 
And crunch their young bones, with unfeeling maw ! 

The clouds grew dark— the shadows hovered rounds 
They hovered round, and compassed him about, 
As with a garment ; and I heard a cry, 
£ar-pierc^«— horribk—e desolate cry— 
The circling hills re-echoed it; around 
They caught the tone, till feint and mr away 
Lowly it died; and, listening there I heard, 
Alone, the weltering of the dreary 

49 Mark Macrabm, the Cameronian. DM*& 


No IV. 

Mari Macrabin, the Cameronian. 

( Continued from Last Number. J 

Adventure with the Gypsies. 

Mine honest and ancient friend, the present from the minister's wife of 
Cameronian, having forsaken the gen- Kipplekimmer — a handmaiden on ei- 
tle lady of Lagghill, and her kind and ther side accompanied her on foot, and 
enthusiastic followers, thus continued four men, bearing green branches, fbU 
his narrative. " Truly, Miles Cameron, lowed. The procession was closed by 
wise was he who rendered into rhyme the congregation marching in mass, 
that famous maxim of circumspection conducting a cavalcade of horses load* 
and prudence, ' Ay keep something ed with the travelling equipage of the 
to yourseT, you scarcely tell to ony, establishment. The men and the wo- 
and wiser still would men be could men sung, alternately, verses of a wild 
they practise it. My next adventure hymn — between every verse the four 
was a strange one, and happened men winded their horns, and thus they 
among a people of unstable residence, pursued their journey till they passed' 
infirm faith, and imperfect morality, from my sight among the woods of the 
When I promised to relate my history, vale of Dalgonar. 
I might have held, by mental re- " From gazing on those respectable 
servation, the right of exercising my enthusiasts, I turned my face towards 
own judgment on indiscreet or un- the river Nith, my forlorn condition 
seemly circumstances ; and truly, my began to claim my concern, and I re- 
adventure with the hopeful progeny of solved to pass into the moorland part 
Black-at-the-bane is a thing not to be of the parish of Closebum, and seek 
proclaimed in the public places. The employment as a shepherd. I was ao- 
profane songs and profaner conduct quainted with several opulent Came* 
of a moving camp of roving gypsies ronian moorland farmers, and I had a 
will sound unseemly after the enthu- love for their patriarchal calling. I 
siastic hymns and hosannahs of my had acquired, from tale and from sons, 
excellent friends the Buchanites. And a great liking to shepherds' pipes, well 
yet there is a kind of pleasure in replenished scrips, kilted damsels, and 
speaking of conduct and relating con- kitted whey. I thought, too, it was 
venation, of which prudence cannot assuredly a pleasant thing to lie in the 
wholly approve — it relieves the mono- sun, on the green side of a high hill, 
tony of sedate thought, brings the with all my flocks around me, listen- 
sunny morning of youth upon us a- ing to the lilting o' the laverocks, and 
gain — it is a ioy that the gravest in- daun'er with them down the green 
dulge in— and so, with the quiet at- margin of a burn among the flowers 
tention of my friend, and the inspir- and the primroses. Resolving to prove 
ing aid of this potent ' peat reek,' I the charms of this primitive vocation, 
shall proceed. I hastened on my way, making the up* 
" Leaving T«agghil1 and Lagg's ru- lands ring with the charming old 
ined tower behind me, I ascended a Nithsdale song of the ' Wakerife 
green eminence on the opposite side, Minnie.' 

and, looking back from its summit, " I soon found myself on the bor- 
as w the camp of our lady descending ders of the old forest, which covers the 
into the plain towards the stream of eastern side of the hills of the Keir, 
Dalgonar. It was conducted with all and reaching down to the Nith, lines 
the precision, and much of the pomp, its margin with stately groves of ash, 
of a regular march. Four men bear- elm, and oak, the whole thickly inter- 
ing green boughs marched in front— woven withhasel, mountain-asn, sloe- 
two others followed, blowing at inter- thorn, and green holly. Through 
vak on harvest horns— then came our these ancient groves, and chiefly on 
ltdy, mounted on a white poney, a the river bank, the laird had cut many 

1890.] . Afootim* with tk* Ctyptiet. 4? 

ssthwaja, and as no one ever accused ty of the place, called it the " Fairy 
turn of an aim in his improvements, Knowe." But the folly of man had 
hii roads had , singular terminations, profaned the haunt of the ' Good 
One greensward winding- way led, Folk ;' the spade and the axe had cut 
with a kind of Will-o'-wisp wander- their way through many a thicket of 
iar , to the sheer brink of one of the honeysuckle and holly, to the foot of 
deepest pools in the river — another this beautiful hillock, and two lodges, 
atfhway pursued its course to the floored and thatched with ivy, seemed 
ferge of an impassable thicket — and to promise centinels to watch the sa- 
aee, more beautiful still, chose to stop cred ground. Into this winding path 
at the base of a steep rock, where the it was my fortune to fall, as I endeav- 
wild cats reared their young, and the oured to force my way round the en- 
ogle found a resting-place when he closure of holly, and I obtained a 
his first spring lamb from the sight, for the first time, of the famous 
of Nithadale. It was full three Fairy Knowe, reposing in the silent 
tef rough road round, to go by either splendour of moonlight. The folly of 
tae laateiu or western extremity of the tne laird had not halted at the foot of 
load and aa the nfcht was calm and the hillock ; it had found its way to 
aadouded, I leaped over the fence the summit. In the very centre of 
which defined, but did not defend, the the Fairy ring a square tower of mason- 
bait of the forest, and setting my ry had been constructing for many 
foe for the green mountain of Queens- years, and had already reached the 
berry, went fearlessly forward. The height of forty feet, with buttress, 
way at first was exceedingly pleasant— loop-hole, and embrazure. The laird 
tke forest was portioned out into had some hopes of finding a use for it. 
dumps of treea, the tall, and the He had long hesitated about a suitable 
dwarf, and the shrub all intermixed, name. When his masons were weary 
and among them green knolls and with building houses, whose ponder- 
gnen award plata were thick and de- ous roofs and impending battlements 
Ughtful. The moon poured foil on scared away all tenants — with raising 
ary path her alant and softened light, stone walls round fields which lacked 
and showed the ring-doves and the nourishment for a thistle— -and with 
rooks sitting in pairs abreast among rearing buttresses of mortar and stone 
tae fhipir— t branches. I crossed one on scaurs and burn-banks, to preserve 
or two of the laird's roads, and rested trees from falling that were not worth 
myself on several of his hermitages, or tenpence — when they had finished all 
rmde lodges of dry atone, matted over these, away they marched with trowel 
Boor, and wall, and roof, with a thick and hammer, to the Fairy Knowe, to 
and trailing mass of green ivy. Pro- add another annual yard to the alti- 
cesdmg onward, I entered the dark tude of this new Babel. 
and mrtrodden bosom of the wood, nor " I stood and looked on this mass of 
did I enter it without awe. The trees, mortar and rock, which encumbered 
over-ar ch ing high above me, formed a this romantic hillock, but I soon found 
roaf thick and verdant, through which another subject for contemplation. Ad- 
the moon could visit me with little of vancing through an arch- way, cut out 
her cheering tight, and the wood- of the holly rampart by the removal of 
|Sfiisis^ having forsaken this thick and a dwarf-bush, I observed the building, 
gloomy grove, left it to the undisturb- unfinished though it was, was inhabit- 
ed possession of the gleds and the ed, for a thin blue smoke curled slow- 
hooded ravens. These birds of prey ly towards the moon, and a light glim- 
and evil omen sat visible on the upper mered from all the lower loop-holes. 
boughs, evidently enjoying the luxury The character of those who had thus 
of the sweet evening. chosen to themselves an habitation, 
" My progre ss was st last impeded by and entered as tenants at will, requir- 
a Bstnral barrier of thick green holly, ed little waste of thought. A dozen 
which, sloping upwards from the fo- of asses, all tethered and reposing 
retf-eward, formed a rampart fifteen round the building, were to me as 
feet high, as dose and impassable aa a sure a sign of a troop of gypsies, aa 
waH ocstone. Nature had woven this the personal assurance of the patriarch 
verdant tracery round a large green of the tribe himself; and this assur- 
knsll hi Che centre of the wood : the ance was not long wanting. Advancing 
its, from the sectaaion and beau- with a rash eagerness to recourvoittt, 

50 Mark Macrabin, the Cameraman. £Apr3 

my foot touched one of the wires lowed by two more of the tribe, now 

which those wary nocturnal visitants came up ; and the old man, throwiag 

had placed in the oath, and connected himselfbetween us, said to my adver- 

with a cracked bell behind the seat of sary in red and keen wrath, ' Curse 

their leader. I felt the touch, and yere madness — ye wad breed discoid 

heard a kind of riven clang ; when out atween twa bosom banes—ye aye gang 

started to the door the hoary leader of atween die sappy bark and the sweat 

the horde himself, even as a spider tree— if ye gang on i' thae reddest 

u no be a 

runs forth when a fly touches the ex- gates, there'll no be a blade ©' 

tremest thread of her mesh. I longed for our beasts, or a gray stone to^lay 
to fly, but I knew flight was vain, and our ain heads on, i' the wide world— 
certainly dangerous; and so I stood Clod down yere knife, or 111 bun 
unconcerned, and still gazing on the powder under yere nose/ With a 
tree-tops and the unfinished tower, growling voice and a stormy brow, the 
like any youth smitten with the de- young desperado disposed of hu krrJfo. 
sire of verse-making. The ancient The patriarch, looking on me for a mo- 
gypsey looked forth on me in silence, ment, took me kindly by the hand, 
ana with caution ; several round bullet and said, * I vow by Uie banes o* my 
heads, covered with a profusion of forefathers — by a' my sowdering irons 
sooty and curled locks, soon came as and ram-horn spoons, no forgetting 
auxiliaries in the scrutiny, and I had twelve as good asses as ever pu'd grass, 
hopes they would let me depart in that this stripling is nae scent-the-sod, 
peace, for I heard something like a nae track- the-de wand Uiread-the- wood 
suppressed voice of command and ad- to that auld donard justice, Curssn 
monition, — but I was soon undeceiv- Collieson — but a sonsie and sure ao- 
cd. In a moment a young powerful quaintance, even young Mark Mao- 
man freed himself from the grasp of the rabin, turned out o* haddin and hame 
patriarch, and came darting forward on for singing the sweet tune o' Stroud- 
me, making bounds something like the water— Lord, lad, ye may sing what 
springs of a wild cat I saw the gleam ye like for me— I m no refljsJona,' 
of a dagger or a knife under the long With this comforting assurance lie lad 
loose sleeve of his coat He accosted me, silent and loath, to the door of his 
me in a harsh rough voice. ( Rab tenement, followed by his comrades, 
Spoolpin, deevil are ye doing here, sae murmuring a kind of hoarse welcome 
far frae yere heddlea ;' mistaking me to their new associate, 
for the son of a Cameronian weaver, . " Alarmed and sorrowful as I was, 
who volunteered his gift of prayer to I could not avoid remarking the care 
sick and despairing maidens, ana often and circumspection with which this es- 
was seen by the gypsies returning tabiishment was guarded against aur- 
from these nocturnal visits of consols- prise, and prepared for resistance or 
tion. Out came the gypsey's dagger retreat. Not only were wires, connect* 
as he spoke, and I lifted my staff and ing themselves with a small bell in the 
fronted him firmly. ' God, air, cast house, placed double across the ave- 
away your sibling, or may I be whup- nue, but on the other side of the hil- 
pet through the burning nit wi' the lock an opening was made in the ram- 
gray tail of my auld ass, if I disnae part of thick nolly, large enough to 
gie ye red sowen for yere wab, and allow a loaded ass to march through, 
that frae 'neath yere fifth rib.' I as- and the boughs were tied back with 
sured him I came for no harm ; that I small cords, so that, by cutting the 
had lost my way, and was sorry for bands, the hedge assumed in a mo- 
disturbing nira. His wrath abated ment its natural and impenetrable ap- 
nothing. ' Cast down yere rung/ said pearance. This verdant archway open- 
he, in a voice choking with fury, ' or ed into the thickest and most* 

by the stars I'se shew ye what kind o' ible part of the forest, and in a rnin- 
acarlet yere best bleede's of.' I still ute all commodities likely to be re- 
held my staff; and he made a spring claimed by their late owners, namely, 
at me with his naked dagger. Though the produce of the fold, the furrow, or 
I was but seventeen I was both stout the nenroost, could be removed into 
and stubborn. I presented the long the wood, together with two or three 
and sharp iron socket of my oak staff of the most warlike of the tribe, re* 
against ray assailant's naked bosom, ducing the roving camp to a domestic 
and kept him off. The patriarch, fol- look — from the hostile aspect of war! 


1990.2 Adventure with the Gypriee. 51 

to the hannlessposture of a peace es- and smoky personages sat beside a 
tablishment. Tne asses, too, lay all reeking cauldron of water, pursuing 
ready, with panniers bound on their the art and calling of manufacturing 
Weks, ready to receive the domestic ram-horn spoons. Nor did they con- 
wealth of the tribe, should hasty mea- fine their labours to the wrinkled and 
mres be necessary. crooked horns of the ram ; the green 

" The patriarch conducted me into and transparent horns of the heifer, 
die very middle of his establishment ; and the huge and darker daggers of the 
and there I beheld a scene of a new bull, alike demanded the application of 
and a singular kind. A large fire their craft. Nor were their produc- 
flamed aud glowed in the bottom of a tions confined to the tables of the tar* 
tarret destined to contain the future mer and the peasant, they appeared in 
stair, and though the hour was late, their most laboured and delicate shapes 
wood had been heaped on with unspar- on the sideboards of country lairds, 
iag hand* The skin of a sheep, lately and even barons. Others of the tribe 
■panted from the fat carcase, and polished and ornamented the shafts 
which bore the mark and birn of Cur- and the mouths of the spoons, but the 
am CoHieaon fair and legibly upon it, chieftain himself was the only person 
was hung on the wall; the skins of se- present who could inlay them with 
feral hares were hung beside it ; nor silver ornaments, make a clear toned 
did I fail to observe a brace of fat whistle in the shaft of a punch ladle, 
turkeys, and half-a-dozen plump pul- or fashion a horn into a harvest bugle, 
lets, which but the evening before Indeed my appearance had interrupted 
Biccd the innumerable roosts of the his labours at a long and very beauti- 
Utrd of Caponcrapia, a neighbouring ful horn which he was preparing as a 
gentleman, eminently skilled in the present to the daughter of a neigh- 
whole domestic mystery of hatching, bouring laird ; it was to have a band 
feeding, fattening, strangling, dress- and a mouth-piece of silver, and the 
ing and finally devouring, all denomi- name of the rural heroine was pro- 
nations of carcasses that carried feath- miscd in addition to these embellish- 
ers, with the exception, I have heard, ments. This was no common horn — 
of die raven and the owl. On the it was shed from the head of a living 
floor, elevated by layers of boughs and bull — no ordinary occurrence — (and it 
sheaves of straw, out of which the is currently credited, that a living cow's 
barmnan's flail had not removed the horn can cure sundry diseases) ; I have 
corn, for they were abstracted from a since heard the damsel wind it long and 
ww-shorn field, were made six or loudly ravself ; with the same horn she 
eight beds, plentifully heaped with cracked tne collar-bone of a lad when he 
bkaketa, and covered with those first made love to her, and said, " Him 
thick and ample wool quilts, for that marries me shall blaw o' his 
which the moorland looms of the horn" — and what woman prophecies 
Sanquhar were once so celebrated, of that kind, she commonly brings to 
From beneath these peeped out a va- pass. On the other side of the fire, 
rietv of heads, large and little, and appeared others of the fraternity, pur- 
thetr thick masses of sooty and cur- suing a more noisy occupation — repair- 
Hug locks were not incommoded by ing fractured kettles, and copper sauce 
cans or anv kind of restraint. The pans, and cementing and claiming glass 
shining ana swarthy glances, and the and china. Nor did they lack tools 
tawned looks, told of an uncorrupted for defence, as well as for trade. 
nee of gypsies ; a laugh at my con- Against the wall lay several long and 
sternation circulated speedily from lair rusty swords, five or six dirks or knives, 
to lair, the lesser heads all ducking and a couple of good firelocks. Gina, 
below the covers, or peeping out, as and traps, nets, and fish-spcars, were 
the mirth rose or subsided. The rest in abundance. Each man was armed 
of die establishment presented no ob- with a long cut and thrust knife, 
jects of repose, and it appeared to me sheathed in his coat sleeves when he 
that the portion of the tribe who de- went abroad. A dagger of this de- 
dicated their labours to sunshine were scription, with a brace of old fashion- 
now in their places of slumber, while ed silver mounted pistols, depended 
the minions of the moon were exerci- from the girdle of the chieftain. They 
sing their calling under the beams of amounted to fifteen in all—seven men, 

" sir patron planets. Two brawny three women, and five children. 
Vol. VJI. Q 

59 Mark Macrabin, tlte Cameraman. £April 

With a face of mustered courage altercation, a ripe and handsome young 
and resignation I sat down on an ass's woman, thegrand-daughterof thechie*. 
old pannier beside the chieftain, and tain, made her appearance from the 
submitted with silence and fear to the remotest end of the hall. — She drew a 
sharp scrutiny of many members of sanquhar mantle, or rather, a counter- 
the tribe, and which continued for se- pane, from her shoulders, as she ad* 
vera! minutes. One fellow, with a vanced, leaving her person arrayed in 
sinister cast of face, affected to mea- the extreme simplicity of her tribe, 
sure me over with the scrupulous at- " Hooly, hooly," said the damsel, 
tendon of a hunter after the bumps stepping between the contending de- 
jand knobs which men have discovered pendants of her tribe, holding the 
indicative of an evil genius. " 111 baud mantle in her hand, ready to cast upon 
a horn spoon/' said he, " to a hand- the daggers, which were expected to 
ful of meal," uniting in his wager his be drawn. Her stature was rather 
past and present professions, for he above the middle size — her whole per- 
had begged meal down the water of son shaped like the most perfect pro- 
Kinnel, and baked bread up the water duction of a statuary — firm, full, and 
of Scaur, "that this younker comes like elegant — and her carriage erect, wild, 
a hoodie craw before a flock of ravens — and unconstrained. Her locks, long 
hell lilt up a psalm, and a dozen of and curling, flowed freely on her 
gnllies will come and sneg our thrap- shoulders — and her large dark eyes 
pies." — " D'ye think sae, Sandy sat shining under a dose mass of raven 
Macfen," said the brawny despera- curls, with which nature had striven 
do, who had drawn his knife on me to conceal a high and polished fore- 
before — " Dash it, dy'e think sae — head. " Hooly, hooly, said the fear- 
by a' the bells o' Gotterbeg, and there less damsel — folly has been and will 
were ance seventeen o' them, I'll slit be the downfall of our race. The hard 
his weazon, if he sings a sang or a hand o' the law, with a halter in't, 
psalm here— or opens a Up, save for a cares for neither yere red anger, nor 
torn spoon— dom me if I disnae"-— yere sharp dirks— -drap yere wrath— 
and he half unsheathed his knife, to will ye be fierce with ane anither, and 
show his sincerity. " Hoot, hoot, fear'd for a' beside — yere just like twa 
Jamie," said a gypsie, whose dialect corbies, pyking out ane anither's een 
announced a stark Galwegian, laying o'er a deaa lamb, when the gun o* the 
aside, at the same time, a most in- shepherd's cocked at their crapins.— 
tractable ram-horn he was straight- Weel may I say, the days o' our might 
ening— " od yere aye sae fear'd — faith are gane — and Kate Marshall maun 
yell quarrel with the very mools, be- be wife to some soulless coof, whs 
cause mools makes graves, and may wants the courage to cock a pistol, and 
make yours, if ye dinnaglower through sense to baud his hands .from folk's 
hemp, and gang for dissection— od hen hawks — shell be brided in a 
ye'll die ere yere day comes through mortclaith sooner." 
nought but fear."— Gypsie Jamie, who All applauded this speech of the 
was a fiery man of Annandale, and long young heroine, and their wrath had a 
a companion in the $mous horde of brief truce. The Annandale desper- 
the Kennedies of the Hightae, stared ado named " Jamie o' the duo o* 
on the Galwegian at this sally, the Dryfe," threw his knife at his feet, 
redness of wrath rising triumphant and cried aloud, — " Weel said, ye 
o'er his dusky complexion. The Gal- bonny chicken o' the bauld blue hen. 
wegian, however, bearing the name, By the best haft to a steel blade, and 
and boasting of a share in the blood that's a Strang shackle-bane — and by 
of the potent, and ancient family of the best sheath for a sharp gully, and 
the Macgrabs, returned the stare of that's an enemy's waroe, ye*re a bauld 
the borderer, nothing daunted — and lass, and a bonny— dome roe, if thou 
said—" Let me tell ye, man, I've sauld isnae. By a' the tup horns o' Dryfe, 
mony a spoon, and got mony a bite I wish auld Daddie Clinkkettle would 
and soup frae the name of Macrabin — sowder us together, and cry, The Bri- 
and by the dunnerin Troughs o' daTs done — bairns to bed." The 
Tongland, if ye touch this bairn wi' fierce dignity with which the offended 
a harmfu* hand, I'll make a cart-road heroine greeted this audacious pro- 
for the worms through amang yere posal from a dependant, might have be- 
ribs." In the midst of this unexpected come a queen of the Amazons. Shedrew 


1880/] Adventure with the Gypsies. 53 

herself back, adding, by the movement, at this aggression, addressed to the 

• nail on my auld elwaud to her na- hand from which the harm proceeded, 

tend height, and shook back the pro- a deep and dolorous bray — a moving 

fusion of raven curls from her brow, cry or the most pathetic expostulation ; 

Her swarthy eyes glimmered fearful- and, snapping its halter in two, came 

ly bright., and words to give utterance rushing between the gypsey comba- 

to all this visible scorn and wrath tants, effectually shielding them from 

were ready to pass her lips, when the the mortal thrusts which, with bared 

interposition of a hitherto unheeded swords, they were aiming at each 

and adent dependant took all attention other. 

sway from meaner things. Ere the During this period of controversy 
hero of the Dub o* Dryfe had conclud- and aggression, tne chieftain sat on the 
ed his address, a young and powerful old pannier with most perfect com- 
mas, who sat cementing china in the posure and unconcern ; he heard all, 
corner, and who had regarded all that but heeded none ; and seemed, by his 
had hitherto happened as common oc- silence, to decide that the death of one • 
tirrences, began to shew the deep in- or two of the most ferocious and tur- 
trrest he took in this unexpected pro* bulent of his gang would be an accept- 
posmi. He started up, muttering, as able event. He even applied himself 
he rose, some of the readiest words in with more than common diligence to 
which fury manifests herself— the the construction of a silver mouth- 
forerunners of the fiercest language piece for the living cow's horn, and I 
and the most desperate deeds, and the cannot say that his skill in this elc- 
china he was repairing was crushed to gant craft was abated by the mortal 
dost against the distant walls of the conclusion to which his dependants 
room. " By the cravat of your Grand- seemed hastening ; nay, he even gavo 
father," said he to the man of Dryfe, one " tout" on the instrument, for the 
" and that was a hempen one — and apparent purpose of proving the merit 
by the hand that fitted it on, and that of his labour ; but as it was uttered at 
was the hangman's, I shall save the the moment the dirks were drawn, I 
cottar that's destined to grace the suspect he internally considered it as 
oaks of your kindred all future a bugle note to battle. But this com- 
trouble, if ye dare but to touch the posure was soon to be shaken. The 
hand of my cousin, bonny Kate Mar- moment he perceived what had bc- 
ihauY* To this speech, in which, per- fallen his ancient and favourite ass, 
haps, the jealousy of rivalry embitter- he started from his seat with unex- 
ed the cup of offence that had been pected agility, and pulling a silver 
pi offac d to the lips of his kindred, the mounted pistol from his girdle, cock- 
nun of Drysdale replied with a loud ed it, and unbuckled the panniers of 
and discordant laugh, something like the animal. The ashen hue of his 
the shrieking scream of the owl when, cheek waxed of a kindlier colour when, 
with expanded wings, it comes pounce on removing the caparisons, he dis- 
co its prey. His face grew black as covered that the missile had drawn 
dean, ana even dilated with the in- blood, but only penetrated skin deep. 
fernal smOe which curled his lips, It had been thrown from a hand so 
and his whole frame quivered with desperate and so powerful, that it 
rape— it was only for a moment. He forced its way through among two 
seised the mortal weapon, which lay bunches of horn spoons, and the lid of 
at ms feet, by the point, and launched a brass sauce-pan. The old man un- 
it with amazing force at the head of cocked his pistol, rcpluced it in his 
the cousin of Kate Marshall. But he belt, and, stroking the neck of the old 
had to combat with a man far more and conscious animal, said, with a 
cool, and equally desperate as himself, visible and tender kindness, " Thou 
He «fadrffl his head as a water-hen auld sonsie beast — thou best piece of 
does when the fowler's gun flashes; ass's flesh that ever cropped corn— 
the dang ero u s missile grazed his hair thou that hast balanced spoons on thy 
at he sunk, and flying far beyond, back to Mall Marshall and her seven- 
sank deep into the pannier of an old teen lad weans, and seen them all laid 
ass, the property of the Patriarch him- under the green turf, waes mc ! The 
sd( which, covered with a worn living hand that harms thy life shall 
mantle, and caparisons of untanned soon belong to a dead man, else tat 
leather, stood ruminating over a sheaf never man trust a spark wi* nowdtfr 
dtbmb earn to the corner. The ass, mair." So saying, lie led the mgp& 

£ & Mark Macrabin, the Cameronian. Q April 

animal bock to its stance, adding a fid"— and so she proceeded to prepare 
piece of wheat bread to its pittance of supper, glad to be the means of plac- 
corn, and then slowly returned and ing norns reeking with delicious soup 
resumed his seat All this passed in in her companion's hands, instead of 
a few moment's space. I liad seen cold and merciless steel. Two loaded 
blood heated, and blood spilt at fairs, panniers were placed on the floor, a 
at trystes, and even at hill preachings, cloth was spread over them— of its 
but I had never witnessed mortal whiteness I have little to say— and a 
weapons drawn in mortal wrath before; sheaf of horn spoons was thrown down 
and I began to look around for some loose on this simple supper board, 
edge tool to defend myself during the The clatter of these instruments of 
general strife which I saw approach- good cheer was the signal for supper, 
ing. But the moment the chieftain and instantly from all parts ox the 
cocked his pistol, a signal, I under- house came man and woman, and 
stood afterwards, that he was deeply squatted down as they arrived around 
incensed, and resolved to punish, the the table. From a cauldron that had 
men who fronted each other in des- sometime simmered on the fire, the 
perate and deadly opposition, and all damsel came charged, in succession, 
those who were preparing to second with two capacious basins turned out 
them, recoiled and dropt their wea- of the solid bole of a plane tree, and 
nons, and stood silent and dark, wait- hooped with bands of copper— she 
ing to see on whom the storm would placed them on the board, and the ss- 
burst. The old man, however, sing- voury steam of hares, and hens, and 
led out no one for punishment either onions, ascended thick and luscious, 
by eye or by word, but, seated in his and eddyed round our heads. A cake 
nannier, resumed his labour at the of meal, brown and thick, and bearing 
narvest-horn, with an unruffled com- the knuckle marks of the maiden who 
posure worthy of a saint. All the brought it, was placed beside each per- 
others, weary of the monotony of op- son, the spoons were snatched up, and 
position and strife, resumed tneir em- all seemed to await the signal to com- 
ployments— -the chieftain began to mence— -grace, I dare not presume to 
croon, or sing in an under tone, a gyp- call it — from the lips of the chieftain 
sey ballad of ancient adventure — the —whatever the old man's wishes were 
Galwegian tinker, imitating the ex- — he was forestalled by the impatient 
ample of the chief, ranted out some Galwegean of the lineage of the Mae- 
stray verses, which required the puri- grabs, who, plunging his spoon into 
firing pen of those who make family one of the basins, sang out, " Ram 
Fieldings, and family Shakspeares, and horns a piece and hae done we V end 
the hammer of the hero of the Dub o' instantly the spoons passed from the 
Dry fe produced, from the bottom of an dish to the lip, and from the lip to the 
oM cauldron, a corresponding clamour, dish, with a rapidity I had never seen 
lor he was much too angry for song, equalled. The soup, thick and brown, 
Peace having resumed her reign and delicious, and thickened with 
once more in the unfinished mansion fowls both wild and tame and other 
of the Laird of Collieson, the gypsie choice things, began to vanish before 
damsel, Katherine Marshall, walked the application of the guests. The 
slowly away to her place of repose, damsel, who had seated herself beside 
shrouding her beauties as she went in me, and furnished my band with a 
the Sanauhar mantle. " Damsel," said good implement of green horn, invited 
the chieftain, stopping her, " hast thou me, by many a kind look, to prove the 
ought on spit, in cauldron, in bottle merits of her cookery. This I per- 
or in basket, to comfort this cannie formed with a good will, and a celeri- 
youth with — he has been leaping on ty almost rivalling the proverbial 
the top of the Lagg hill for three lang prowess of Hughie Hiddlestane, who 
nights and a day, holding his two supped the parridge of three mowers, 
hands to the cauld moon, with deel to show he had no ill will to the 
soupit atween his lips, save the fiz- house. My ability at the spoon was 
senless verse of a sang." Willingly, welcomed in the kindest manner, and 
and with a smile that came direct from the chieftain said, in his softest tone, 
the heart, the maiden turned back, " Fair fall ye, lad — ye're a red-handed 
and said—" It is nigh the supper chield — slow to meat and slow to 
hour, and the strange lad will like wark — ye'll either make a good spoon 
single spoon is aye laithu* or spul a fail hctu." 

lasoO Advadurc with the Ggpries. 65 

As toon as we had emptied the nae better weapon in his hands than 
k»ns of their savoury contents, the the jail-door, (it had once been a bar* 
ssauel removed them, and in their row,) whilk he reftfrae the bands, and 
place produced a large jar full of cleared his way through the seven 
snuggled brandy. Drinking cups corporations of King Brace's borough* 
made of horn, both deep and wide, ac- He was a rough unsonsie chield, and 
compcnied it, and the guests proceed- lost his lift through the fault of 
ei to replenish and empty them with Strang hemp, when he was but twenty 
the regularity and rapidity of platoon years auld and twa. But where was 
firing. The gloom and wrath which there a man like our ain Tarn Mar- 
were visible on the brows of the Gal- shall, known in his own sangs by the 
wegean, the man of Dryfe Dubs, and name of Galloway Tam, who had ale 
the fiery cousin of Kate Marshall, be- a cunning hand that he stole die 
pm to brighten up, smiles were sue- purse of Serjeant Macraw from his 
ended by opener mirth — mirth by very belt, as he paid him for a new 
laaghter, loud, and long, and boister- snuff-mull, and a for a wager o* twall 
oos. The names of the ancient heroes pennys — and, by my fay, he had a 
and heroines of the clan were toasted, hand as Strang as it was cunning, for 
sad the toasts were accompanied by he fought the het-blooded Highland- 
Brief notices and allusions to then- er wi' a crabtree stick against cauld 
thai acids and their achievements. — steel for a round sound hour, and 
The chieftain, hoary and furrowed, then gae him back his purse to mend 
and his might subdued by the force his sair banes." " Ah, grandfather," 
sf eighty years and odd, sat up erect, said Kate Marshall, " my uncle was 
and joyous as the glories of ancient the pride o' ancient Galloway. Cora- 
thnes arose to his recollection. The pared with him, what are those hand- 
light of youth came back to bis faded less and heartless coofs that carry on 
eyes in fitful and broken gleams. — the calling now — reavers of auld wives 
M Ah I lads," said he, with a tone of haddins, and robbers of hen-roosts. — 
SM iuwful r efle ction , and conscious that And yet thae sackless sinners sigh for 
he was smUen on evil days and among the hand o' Strang Tam Marshall's 
little men, "the times are sadly niece—of a' the miseries and doola 
changed — and man, once stately and that women are doomed to dree, that 
stark, n now stunted and feckless — of bearing bairns to a gomeril is the 
where is the fallow now like black saddest and the sairest." " And what 
Jamie Macall, the game cock of Glen- serves all this sighing about auld 
msnmah, who threw a fat wether o'er times," said the descendant of the 
the West Bow Port of Edinburgh, on Macgrabs of Galloway, " the days are 
a wager of a plack with a porter." gane when a stark chap, with a drawn 
* And aad and sair he rued it," said sword, bought pleasure and wealth- 
Kate M^f^ " the deed was done the hempen might of civil law lies 
in anger, and the poor creature bleated stretched over the land, and deel soupit 
as it flew owre the wall, thirty feet it is else but a desperate foumart trap 
Ugh and three, and Jamie said he —a cursed gird-an-gims to grip all 
bend the bleat o' the waefu brute in kinds of spuiziers — slight maun to do, 
hit lug aa be lay on his death-bed F for might canna do, sae said Tam 
"Then there was Jock Johnstone," Marshall, wight as he wss, and sae 
said the chieftain, heedless of his say I — and talking o' gallant Tam, 
flsnd-danghter's illustrations, " Rab's I might do waur wan gie ye ane of 
Jock of the Donkevdubs of Lochma- his sangs — he had a soul to make, and 
ben, fc»«n*d far ana near by the name a sweet voice to sing — sangs that shall 
of double-ribbed Jock, who fought his live while heads wear horns, and that's 
mj from among iron stanchells, with a right bauld boast." 

thm audience seemed as prepared to listen as the Galwegean was to sing, and 
he accordingly delivered, in a kind of rough and careless chant, the following 



law shall Bother righ nor sab When the linns o' Clouden have ceased to 
Pear gold, and steal can stab, roar, 

__ j-oocks, crow-birds, live i* the The glen to grien for the gorliocs gore, 

wood. And the buds to shoot on Dalgonax tree, 

-*-- v the said, and fish ? tbeBood Then look for days of dool to me. 


Mark Macrabiu, the Cameronian. 



11m moor-tan iwean by her rough legs, 
She •corns the carle and his corn bags; 
4he'i ratter far on the heather top, 
Than the cankered cade on fold and crop. 
Let the hen beware of the foxes tooth— 
The cade of blight, and blast, and drowth ; 
But holm and hill, and moor and tree, 
Have crop, and flock, and fruit for me. 

When the hare has might to break my i 
The feathers to flee wT the dead birds 
And the deer to bound o'er bank and n 
Wi* an ounce o» lead P th' lapp o» his li 
Then may I dread that want and woe 
Will crack my might, and crush me low 
Come maiden bonny, and frank, and free 
Leave father and mother, and follow me. 

The Galwegean ceased, and applauses Marshall made sangs of a sailer sort 

prolonged, and almost rivalling in he had a tender heart at times — it 
discordance the mixed greeting of the aye grew hardened by the Candle- 
owl and raven, when the fox glides mas fair o' Dumfries — whan men 
under their secure roosts, followed rode hame with dizzy heads and 
the traditional ballad of the tribe. — heavy purses. Kate Marshall, ray 
" May I be ridden by the reeket winsome lass, e'en sing me thy uncle*s 
deil round the toons o Galloway," sang that he made for poor Chris- 
said the descendant of die Macgrabs, tian Kennedy o' Cummertrees, whan 
" without saddle or sonks, if lady's the salt sea swallowed up the father 
fingers ever touched stented thairm to o* her lad bairn." The gay look 
a better sang than that I should of the gypsey maiden saddened as 
like to see the lad that said no till't— " die old man spoke, and she sung, 
" Its a ballad o' bauld bearing doubt- with a voice exceedingly pathetic and 
less," said the chieftain, " and brags sweet, some verses which 1 have never 
o* hership and bodily harm. Tarn forgotten. 


The lea shall have He lily bells, 
The tree its bud and blossom, 

But when shall I have my leal love 
Hame ftae the ^ H*Hiff qw \. 

All mcht I woo the tender stats, 
With eyes upturned and mourning, 

And every morn look to the sea, 
For my leal love returning. 

8sir, sab: I pled, and followed him 
With weeping and with wailing; 

He broke his vow, and broke my heart, 
And sighed, and went a 

Oh sweetly sweet would be the sleep, 
That knows no dream or waking, 

And lang and green may the grass grow 
Aboon a heart that's breaking. 

" Sweet be your tongue, my aonsie poncrapin's numerous roosts — see if 
lass," said the man of Galloway ; " I the carse pool keeps a salmon with 
shouldna scunner at a bed aneath the a rat mergh-fin— seek for a hare in 
billows myself— -providing I could be the hedge, and a moorhen on the 
drowned within sight o* Tongland, hill— and, aboon a', pluck some ripe 
my native place — to have sae sail plumbs and apples for my fair and 
and tender a voice to warble aboon kind cousin Kate— We maun cease 
me — Faith, I count it nae uncomfort- singing and rin." 
able thing to have a sweet sang sung Instant preparation was made for 
by cherry lips about ane whan their this excursion, and I had no doubt 
head*s happiL" — " And what voice that the laird and the captain would 
shall sing owre thee," said the iron mourn o'er their diminished flocks in 
man of Dryfe, who had no sympathy the morning, and plan an expedition 
for the fame of song after the turf with hound and norn, against the 
had opened and closed upon him — foxes of Dalswin ton wood and Queens- 
" The hooded crow shall have its berry mountain. The alert Macgrab, 
sunket off yere brisket bane some and the cousin of bonny Kate, stood 
mornin, and ye winna hear its croak — ready awaiting the signal to inarch 
dom me, if ye will — " " It's now from the chieftain, but the desperado 
near ane o'clock," said Kate Marshall's from the Dub of Drufe shewed evi- 
cousin ; " and we maun count the dent reluctance to prepare, and seem- 
sheen on Cursan Collieson*s hill-side — ed contending with some strong inter- 
number the fat hens on Captain Ca- nal reeling. He put his emotions in 


Adventure with the Gyptics. 

words : " By the spar o v the John- 
stones," said he, " and its a winged 
me, if the sough of Christian Kenne- 
dy's sang is no ringing in baith my 
lags, like the wether's bleat i' the lug 
o black Jamie o' Glenmannah. De'il 
be me if I'se owre prood ot Kate, 
bit winsome kimmer, hae ye nae sang 
-wome kissing kind ane, to drive this 
wail o* dool and sorrow out of my 
lag. Conscience, if yell sing me ane, 
I'se bribe your lips with a pocket-full 
o* the sweetest plumbs that ever hung 
onaer a green leaf to the sun, d — n me 


if I disna." The gypsev maiden 
looked on the Drysdale suppliant with 
mingled pity and scorn; — but her 
grandfather said : " Sing him a sang, 
Katherine, my dow ; its a sad thing 
to have the sough of a dirge in ane'a 
ear, — it never comes but dole and scar- 
row follow— dinna let him gang to 
his doom, may be, uncheered, if your 
tongue can charm him." To her 
grandfather's request the maiden com* 
plied, and sung, with an easy and arch 
grace, the ballad I shall try to repeal 
to you. 



0, haste ye, and come to our gate en*, 
All solder the •troop o' roy lady's pan : 
If 7 bed's away to hunt the doe, 
QoV the winsome lass o' GaUowa'. 


I hs'e a pan o* my ain to clout, 
Before I can solder your lady's stroup ; 
And ye maun hide, my mettle to blaw, 
My winsome lass o' GaUowa'. 

Nov, wad ye but leave your gay lady, 
Aad cany the tinkling tools wi me ; 
And be on kilns, on clean ait straw, 
My winsome lass o' GaUowa." 

Her hair in hanks o* jgowden thread 
O'er her milky shoulders was loosely spread ; 
And her bonnie blue e'en blinked love below, 
My winsome lass o' Gallowa*. 

I took her by the jimpy waist ; 
And her lips stood tempting to be Inst ; 
But whether I kiss'd them well or no, 
Yt may ask the lass o' Gallowa'. 

Now quat the grip, thou gypsey loon. 
Thou hast touzeU'd me ml my breath is 

done ; 
And my lady wiU fret frae bower to ha*, 
Quo' the winsome lass o' Gallowa*. 

Ye've coupit the soldering-pan, my lass, 
And ye have sealed my clinks o* brass ; 
And my gude spoon caams ye've split in twa, 
My winsome lass o* GaUowa'. 

During the gypsey maiden's song, the wark !" he half shouted, " bairns to 

sky, which before had become cloudy wark ! when mankind are humbled 

and overcast, darkened down to earth we maun work, — a praying eye is aye 

at once ; thunder was heard nearer steeked ; — a dunt o' thunder and a naff 

and nearer, and the crooked fires came o' fire are just the tongue and the light 

Bathing rapid and bright among the to make our trade thrive ; — mind, the 

green "branches of the forest. The fattest ewe has the fairest fleece; and 

fflphnTf which succeeded her song the best hen sits at the wing o' the 

was sobered down by the presence of cock ; — prime matters to remember.— 

the tempest ;— I was busy with inter- Rin, rin while the light shines."- 

Sprayer;— the old man alone seemed And away started the gypsey marau- 

lsawea,— he snatched up the un finish- ders, leaving me alone with the hoary 

ed harvest-horn that lay at his feet, and conductor of this roving horde, and 

pre one brief blast : " Bairns, to his hopeful grand-daughter. 

The angers that starch my lady's frills 
Never could carry your tinkling tools ; 
Ye'ie pans wad grime my neck of snaw, 
Quo* the winsome lass o* Gallowa'. 

m L°*t MHtriUe'§ Monument. £ April 

ItTTtft, ?EOH A ?aOPftlitO» OF 8T AtfDafiw's*60UAfiS, RELATIVE TO TRE 


m tniTon, 
I ▲« one of those Proprietors of St Committee on 6th March last. Even 
AndiWs*equere who have been fro* after that, I merely considered it as a 
quentiy alluded to of late in your Ma- niece of neglect in point of etiquette ; 
gestae, as well at in certain other pub* fbr I had reason to know that the «*v- 
ftcadons, aa having been the means of cretary to the Naval Committee haul 
preventing the Naval Monument, in constantly had access to the whole of 
honour of the memory of the late Lord our minutes ; nor was it till I read the 
Melville, from being erected in that letter from " One rf the Committee 9 ~ 
which, I agree with you in thinking, is that I came to be satisfied that this 
the best situation for it, either within omission had been of more import- 
er in the neighbourhood of this city, ance than I had previously imagined. 
I have not the least intention of en- I cannot persuade myself that the 

tering into any discussion on the sub- gotiation would ever have been broken 

ject, nor de I think it would be rea- off, had the Naval Committee been as 

sonable to request of you to admit any well informed of our proceedings ass 

additional argument*) either on the we were with regard to theirs, nor 

one side or the other, relative to a that they would have neglected em 

matter which has already occupied ful- they did a communication which was 

ly enough of your valuable Miscellany, made to them by u a learned jrentle- 

At the same time, I must confess, that man*" shortly before they adopted 

I am anxious that such gentlemen as their last resolution, (unless, indeed, 

may choose to favour the public with they considered themselves bound bjr 

their speculations, should be fully ac- then* agreement with Sir Patrick 

2uainted with the facts of the case be* Walker,) had they known, that it 
»re they begin to reason upon the sub* was not with any proprietor of the 
ject ; and the more so, that, from the square that any change of measures 
language employed by a gallant m ember originated, and, that alter they them- 
of the Naval Committee, whose letter selves had agreed upon an ultima- 
appeared in the last Number of your turn, point after point was con- 
Magaaine, and from certain other or* ceded oy the proprietors, with no 
cumstanees which have recently come other view than that of consulting the 
to my knowledge, I am fully convinced, feelings and desires of the Naval 
that, however strange it may appear, Committee, before any one of the 
the Committee are at this moment in a members of the square ever thought of 
state of considerable ignorance of the protesting against the erection of the 
history and progress of their negotiation pillar. 

with the proprietors of St Andrew's- As I said before, I have no inten- 
aquare. I am aware that, in point of tion of arguing the matter ; but trust- 
fact, no official answer was transmitted ing that you will agree with me in 
by tne proprietors of the Square to the thinking, that m fairness and justice 
last communication of the Naval Com- to all parties concerned, the facts of 
mittee. This was doubtless a great the case ought to be known to the 
omission on the part of the gentlemen public, I hope you will have the 
who ought to have returned such an- kindness to indulge me with inserting 
swer. From not having been a mem- the following extracts from the mi- 
ber of the last Committee appointed nutes of the proprietors of the square, 
by the proprietors, I am not personal- to which I will annex no farther cx- 
ly responsible for die neglect ; and the planation than seems to me to be nc- 
truth is, that I was not aware of it till cessary to render them intelligible to 
after I had read the " General Report," such persons as did not hear the verb- 
which was published by the Naval al statements by which they were ac- 

• I hope there are none of ut who are incapable of acknowledging and endeavouring to 
repair any error which we may happen to commit, but this gentleman was ■"'ftnVrn in 
saying that two of the ssoptkt a ts might bt induced to withdraw their objections, and 
correspondent in the Number tor February, who said they had made the amende 
irable, was also wrong, and both for the same reason, that these proprietors had 

your c 

espresuy consented to terms more favourable to the Naval Committee, than they themsehes 
had ngnified their sstisrsction with, before the negotiation was broken off 

1890/] Lord Melville s Monument. 69 

qanpsnied, and from them I think entered into the Mowing resolution : 
von will be satisfied that the following " The Committee, having considered 
it a correct detail of the facts of the the extract of the minute of the Corn- 
caw, mittee of Proprietors of St Andrew's 
1st, Hie negotiation was opened by Square, of date the 8th instant, here- 
i printed letter, dated fth December by instruct their secretary to inform 
1819, and signed by the secretary to the Committee of Proprietors, that the 
the Naval Committee; in which he Naval Committee cannot agree to the 
" permission of the Proprietors to modifications proposed by the pro* 
the pillar in the square under prietors of the Square, relative to the 

conditions, which were all of introduction of gas, and building up 

them highly reasonable and proper. the door of the monument" 

On the Slat of the same month the 3d, The different gentlemen who 

rrsp ii e tors of the Square held a meet- had proposed the modifications which 

ing, fcr the purpose of taking this let- I have mentioned, having been pri- 

ter into their consideration, where the vately informed of this resolution 

only di f ference s of opinion among them of the Naval Committee, and being 

Me, as to whether the pillar should sincerely desirous to throw no obstacle 

k erected in the centre, or at the west in the way, withdrew their respec- 

atte of the Square, and whether an tive proposals. At the same time, 

answer should be returned to the in agreeing to a door being made in 

Naval Committee, consenting to the the pillar, it was thought advisable, 

erection, before or after it should be that measures should be adopted to 

asfiertabied whether the absent Pro- prevent the indiscriminate access of 

prieton would concur with those who strangers. And whether the idea was 

attended the meeting. correct in a legal view or not, it was also 

At this meeting, all the gentlemen deemed necessary that this should be 

who have ever been stated as objectors, done before the pillar was erected, for 

enxpting one, were present, and it was this reason, that any condition agreed 

ontahneiisly agreed, that the proposal to beforehand by the Proprietors among 

of the Naval Committee should be ap- themselves would have been binding 

provedof, provided this general consent upon diem, and might have been en* 

wat gat ; and several meetings of the forced at any time by a minority, or 

faerietors, and of their Committee even by one of their number; whereas 

woe held for the purpose of forward- a regulation made after the pillar was 

iag the object in view. finished, would have been liable to 

fld, It had been signified, that it constant alterations at the pleasure of 

woald be as cheap, and that the every meeting of proprietors, or of per* 

nDar would be stronger, if it were sons obtaining authority from non-resi- 

(silt with a stair in the inside, than dents, however small the number of 

it would be if it were solid, and that such meeting might be. 
tat stair would also be convenient This explanation will explain the 

when it should be necessary to repair next resolution of the Committee of 

the pillar. It was suggested, at one Proprietors, which was entered into 

of our meetings, that in order to on 80th March, 1819, in these terms: 

secure the privacy of the Square for " The Committee unanimously agree, 

the sake of die children of the Pro- that no gas-light shall be combined 

prietors, and to prevent strangers from with the pillar ; and that the door of 

getting within the area, under the the pillar shall be under lock and key, 

pretence of ascending the stair, the and entirely under the control of the 

door of the Pillar should be built up, Proprietors, and never opened except- 

sad should never be opened excepting ing for necessary repairs, and that any 

when repairs were wanted. It was individual proprietor shall have the 

tso thought, that gas lights might power of a veto against opening the 

he combined with the pillar in such door, excepting for repairs, 
t manner, as to prove ornamental to 4th, This explicit oner was as expli* 

it, sad useful to the Square. citly accepted by the Naval Commit- 

These suggestions, together with tee, by a minute dated on the same day, 

the proposal, that the pillar should be in which they state, that they consider 

erected at the aide of the Square, were /die transaction with the Proprietors of 

wm nHit ri^tofi to die Naval Committee ; the Square to be closed. Their minute 

sad on the 9th of March 1819, they was in these terms : " — — bavins, 

Vol. VIL II 

60 Lord Melville's Monument. £ April 

communicated the following resolution Square, providing, thai each individual 

of the Committee of Proprietors," pnetor shaU at all times have an cffiscttial 

(Here was engrossed the resolution t^, a^ the ««a dow being opened, on 

were of opinion, that havmgakeady K necessaiy for ATpuipase of repairs, 

agreed that every thing connected with 2df ., rbllit ^mediately upon these agna- 

access to the pillar should he subject t^ being obtained, the Committee of Pro. 

to the rules and regulations of the prietors be empowered, and directed to 

Proprietors, what is now proposed, communicate these resolutions to the Naval 

sanctioned by the Proprietors at large, Committee ; and to obtain from that Com- 

ouffht not to be objected to by them ; mittee, the necessary obligation or writing. 

an3 as the point as to the gas is <**"***« F&vL&TSZ 

now yielded, the Committee consider •£*■ g^^J*— -f the 

that all matters may now be consider- ^ me month rf May> 1821j nd for 

ed as adjusted betwixt tnem and ^ding B ft^a for keeping the same in re- 

the Proprietors, though the Naval pair, in all time coming. 

Committee will not proceed with their » Mr ■ " (the Secretary of the 

operations until the Committee of Pro- Naval Committee), " moved, and 

prietors shall have had an opportunity dopted the following motion, which 

of consulting with their constituents/' seconded by Mr , that the door 

6th, The matter being thus appa- *f ** * °P«^ on a^conojiion, with- 

\\ i j ™,«~T«™*.:.*~ *J ST* out me consent and approbation of a majo- 

rently dosed, a general meeting oi the rf ^ ^ rictor f of me Square^d 

Propnetors of the Square was held on ^ me concern of the site requested, 

the 29th March 1810, when one of ghaU not either direcdy or indirecdy, confer 

the gentlemen, who is stated as an ob- any right either of property or of servitude, 

jector, moved, that the transaction so in or over the Square, in terms of their cir- 

entered into should be approved of, cular, of the 9th December, 1818. 

and that measures should be taken for " This motion was withdrawn, and 

rendering the veto effectual. No Pro- (*• » m « genueman) moved I to approve j of 

jection, but the secretary to the Naval ex ^ licnt amngement relative to the mode 
Committee, who had always been per- f r accc88 to the Pillar." 
roitted to attend the Square meetings, 6tn> Though the veto had been 
and a member of theNaval Committee, agreed to by the Naval Committee, yet 
who held a proxy from the Royal g^g th at it wa8 objected to by their 
Bank, as proprietors of two houses in representatives in our meeting, the 
the Square, moved that the veto should gentleman who had proposed it, 
not be agreed to. That there may be ^ that to bring me ^^ to a do8Cf 
no suspicion of misrepresentation in he was willing to put his motion in the fbl- 
this statement, I insert the motions lowing manner: " That the meeting 
precisely as they were made. do approve of the report of the Commit- 
s—Moved, That the meeting do ap- tee now read; that the proposed pillar 
prove of the report of the Committee, now be erected in the centre of the Square, and 
read, that the proposed Pillar beerected in the that me entrance to the same be by a door 
centre of the Square, and that the entrance secured by lock and key; that there shaU be 
to the same be by a door, secured by a lock affixed to the pillar, as soon as it is con- 
and key : That there shall be affixed to the structed, a rod-conductor, to prevent risk 
Pillar, so soon as it is constructed, a rod- from lightning." 

conductor, to prevent risk from lightning. This motion then proceeded to state as 

That it is reasonable and proper, that the before, that it was reasonable and proper to 

Proprietors of the Square, having thus con- secure the privacy of the Square ; and, in- 

sented to every thing proposed by the Naval stead of proposing that the minute for that 

Committee, should, at the same time, take purpose should enact an absolute veto in 

such measures as may be necessary, to se- each proprietor, it bore " that a minute to 

cure the same exclusive use of the Square, be signed by all the Proprietors be imme- 

to themselves and their families, that they dUtely engrossed in the sederunt book of 

have hitherto and do at present enjoy: That the Square, providing that the said door 

this can only be secured, by providing ef- shaU never be opened on any condition, 

fectuaHy, for keeping the door of the Pillar without the consent and approbation of 

shut at all times, excepting in cases of ne* three fourths of* the resident Proprietors, 

cessity : And therefore, that a minute to be excepting when the same shall be necessary 

signed by all the Proprietors, be immediate- for the purpose of repairs." 

ly engrossed in the sederunt book of the Then followed a repetition of the in- 

1990.] Lord Melville's Monument. 61 

ttnerioM 10 the Committee to comrau- men, who wished to approve of the 

■ale with the Naval Committee, upon suggestion of the Naval Committee, 

inch i ■ (the nine member of the were 

feral Committee who had adopted the lmo , <• That me gentlemen of (he Naval 

ftm ssnendment) agam moved " to approve Committee shall satisfy the Committee of 

sitae report, excepting as to the veto, and Proprietors, .herein after named, that the 

si ram to a Committee to consider the prop^ pafr, be completed on or before 

"■* c ? cdicIlt ■nangs^yent idalrve to the me 21st day of May, 1821. 

■ode of access to the pB» r - 2do, That the Stones and Mortar of the 

«• Themcetmg resolved, before approving pjjj^ gj^fl be completely prepared out of die 

sf mt report, to remit to a Committee of ^^ f mc Square, according to the propos- 

hssnetets to consider the most expedient ^ oftht Naval Committee. 

■is s yim i ito relative to the access of the 3^ f^ ^ rfahts of the Proprietors to 

sOsr, with power to com mun icat e to the the inclosed area, shall not be altered many 

Nsval Committee. respect, by giving their consent to the build- 

7th, The Naval Committee, at their ing of the Pima. 

p**t meeting, sanctioned the opposi- 4to, That in no event shall indiscriminate 

don which had been so made by their *«ess to »e public be allowed : And that 

secretary and member. Their min- a ** rf Tvikt "specting the access shall be 

z^uiim isii^ tar, rt^^K^sssj 

-TTie mmoteofUst meeting having been q^ £, ^j, purpose, who shall name a 

leal ttwaa resolved, on the motion of— Committee of resident proprietors, to give 

!"^"" & ZZ TT" ™ unannnous- ^^ to toe T ^ ta „ lai^down. 

5 ■fc? - ^ Tfc f t 5*" 1 *5 J* w •" 8m 5 , 5 5to, That a Committee of Proprietors be 

skald be the s ite of the Pilhr, provided appointed for adjusting every detail rcspect- 

u« the Propr ietors of the Square agree ^ me completion of the work, and the se- 

terms, relative to the access, as ^^^ ^ e nec eetary means of keeping it in 

the Naval Committee can approve of, and re pair." 
Bssvided the funds arc found to be sufSci- \T_* . . . » . • , . v , . 

estfarihe purpose of erecting, and after. On Ae part of those who wished to 

vsms maintaining the PfflarTlt was more- nave the management previously fixed 

ewr, the opinion of the Committee, that a on a definitive basis, Mr 

nejonry of the Proprietors of the square proposed the following amendment to 

oaghft id regulate every matter relative to the 4th resolution : 

tat access, so soon as the Pillar is complet- «« That the key of the Pillar shall never be 

si And m Ac event of this resolution not entrusted to the custody of the square-keep- 

sasg agreed to, the Committee are of opi- CT , or any other servant of the square : That 

M, that the «*. of St. AndreVs-square ^ venoa shall have access to die Pillar at 

staid be given up. any i^, without the consent in writing of 

8th, The Committee of Proprietors a majority of a Committee of seven resident 

of St Andrew's Square agreed to this proprietors, appointed for the purpose, being 

new proposal, by a majority, at a meet- «pecially obtained thereto, and that a minute 

iar heti on 6th April 1819, two of * «««* m m ? sederunt-book, and signed 

SsT^ft^ authl^ eacn* 

verbally, that thwigh, for the sake of othcr . ^ * ^^ pr0 prietor 

naanimity, they wjould give up the ^^ at ^ timeBf fave a valid and effectual 

veto, they still meant to insist that, veto against any other, or more, or indiscri- 

whatever the regulations to be adopted minate access, being allowed to the Pillar, 

with regard to the door of the pillar than is herein provided, excepting for the 

might be, they should be settled be- purpose of repairs." 

fcre it was erected, so as to have the This amendment was negatived by a 

force of a condition, instead of being majority of 10 to 9 ; whereupon the 

oostponed till afterwards, which would mover of it inserted a protest in the 

have rendered them mere rules, altera- minutes, in precisely the same words, 

Ue at all times at pleasure. and " intimated that he would take all 

9th, A meeting of the proprietors such measures as he might deem ne- 

of the Square was held, at which even cessary, to prevent its being erected on 

the resolution, with regard to three- any other condition/' 

fourths, was dropped, and no other Other matters were talked of during 

security for the privacy of the Square the course of the discussions, but aa 

required, than that four resident gen- they dont appear in the minutes, and 

uemen should give their consent, in were, besides, of a nature which would 

writing, before any person was admit- tempt me to break my resolution not 

ted into the inside of the pillar. The to argue, I shall say nothing about 

resolutions jxvpomxl by those gentle* them here. 


03 Lord Melville's Monument. £ April 

I trat you will now be able to judge their own favour which were offered 

whether toe negotiation was broken off that condition. And I have only £k 

because one party proposed new or firi- ther to add, that it was not till after all 

vokras conditions, or, as " one of the this, that another proprietor, wemried 

Committee" expresses it, " made illi- out and disgusted with the number of 

beral opposition," and stated " futile meetings and disputes which there HacE 

objections/' or because the other party been with regard to it, and especially 

departed from a condition which they with this refusal to abide by the terms 

had at one time agreed to by an entry which had been at one time distinctly 

in their own minutes, officially com- agreed to, save in a protest against; the 

municatedto the Proprietors of the erection of the Monument in the 

»uare, and did not choose to accept square. 

the very important modifications in a mlofeist on or bt AXDREw's-eair 


In this volume is contained an ab- on the same subject, the following 

street of Professor Brown's -System re* marks upon the nature of conscious* 

lative to the Physiology of the Mind, ness will show. 

It was meant to serve as a text-book " Coiisciousness has been generally con- 
fer those attending his Lectures, and sidered at a peculiar power of the mind, of 
therefore the successive parts of the which all our various feelings when piaatu t^ 

. but the object of smell. 
book by itself an agreeable and satis- M ThU view> whkh appemn to ^ 

factory vehicle of the author s leading manifestly erroneous, seems to be a part of 

doctrines, and to make the reader re- that general error with respect to the mind, 

gret to find that it is broken off abrupt- which* after endowing it with many Powers* 

Iy at a very interesting part ; Dr Brown —that are truly nothing more than certain 

having been unable to finish what is relations of uniform antecedence of states «f 

set forth in the table of contents. For mmd * other states of mind or to bodily 

the sake of our readers, we shall en- nwvemente,^learnstoconsiderAesePow» 

dearour to give an account of some of ^^Tt^JS^SLSX^ 

these i^ and remarluiblesrjeculations, wnicn it j, fadf merely a name, cxp 

of which till now there was no print- cf a certain uniformity in the order of their 
ed publication, to diffuse them beyond 

the limits of his class-room, and which •• Consciousness, in its widest sense, it truly 
cannot fail to be read with admiration nothing more than such a general name, ex- 

rorthosepenetratingtslents,from which prendre of the whole variety of our feeling*, 

science must no longer hope to receive In *"; wnte « to fee ? w */* a " uagQS » •** 

nrtherbenefits. Theknguage through- a * i to J^ w^«» » not to fed. 

*. i ui cZ^^Tr "jV. ** The series of states m which the mind 

out is remarkable for precision, and for od8ti> hm moment to momellt> • nt ^ ih9t 

the dexterity and elegance with which can be known of , me inmd 5 and it caimot, 

it is used for the purposes of reason* at the tame moment, exist in twodjftrent 

ing. It is well known, that Dr Brown Hatet, one of consciousness, and one of some 

was in the habit of introducing, in his other feeling wholly distinguishable from it. 

Lectures, many illustrations beautiful "Whatever its iBomeutary feeling may be, 

as conceptions or pictures ; but in the • u *pls orcom nleT , ■ sensation, a thought, 

present publication these are almost ^? wtl ^^T^^iT^^ , T 5 

entirely Withheld, so that the reader Z£Z^£*2 ^JlSS^l 

A , X * * _ .. « object or conscjousness, as 11 conscionsness 

find- few pauses or relaxations from we ^ wmethm - mamt ftom a state in 

abstract reasoning. ^ w ^^ mc mind exists, is truly all the con. 

In what manner Dr Brown s ideas, tciousness of the moment, 

at the outset, differ as to one import- •• / am coruckmi of particular fteB*g % 

ant point, from those of former writers means only Iftel fa a particular pummer. 

• Sketch of a System of the Philosophy of the Human Mind ; Part I. comprehending 
the Physiology of the Mind ; by Thomas Brown, M. D. Professor of Moral Philosophy 
in the University of Edinburgh. Edinburgh ; Bell and Bradrate* &c 1820. 

W80.J Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind. 63 

At fa as regards the pretest merely, it ex- derived series, of which each raccef- 

■w the existence of a particular feeling, give phenomenon if generated from 
let Bathing more, .the lit, or from external perceptions 

-Wtmay.mde^kwkba^aparticu. _the whole being so many different 

i^l d i^n^ , S^^ W Jf «- * one sentient principle^ and 

^tt^arej^anTfrom the belief of each state bein ? uncomoounded and 

skstfcy which mrieea mtuitively in such a simple, and including the whole es- 

e^«enMTgifemeiiameofC<»McioHM«M sence of the mind so long as it lasts. 

to ssb brier retrospect and identification, at But even this mode of viewing the 

v* give the name of Memory or JUmern- phenomena is not inconsistent with 

kmee to the longer retrospect. But the the notion of the mind having par* 

osfeerawacmimofnamsouly. The tfcuiar fcenhies for particular pur- 

nssembraiKej m m kind to jsme, whether ^^ A fecul ^ mean8 0J tjthe 

teae, is in strictness of language ontpre- tn relation to external objects ; for every 

•tt feeling,— oae state of themmdand no- thought or feeling is a relation of some 

ibm motet and even of this virtual com- kind to external objects. Cut off the 

plenty* we Sod, on analysis, no other ele- mind's communication with the out* 

■eats than these s certain feeling of some ward world, and take away the con* 

lad, the remembrance of some former oeption of things formerly perceived, 

'" •- ■"* ?" ¥?* *f ■*• $***** <* and all thoughts and feelings would 

bac h fedi an d hi felt, if we take immediately cease. Now, it is not in 

^JEZ^^J^VA conseouence of any one omdity that 

, and with it every thing that die- &* mmd u capable of existing in so 

die complex feeling which is man y different relations to external. 

nscmsness, from the simpler objects, or (what is the same thing) 

w of which we are said to be conscious, to conceptions — and, if it be in conse- 

t ■ bot m a very email number of our quence of different qualities, these 

js, ae they succeed each other in end- qualities may without impropriety 

mm variety, mat any such retrospects and ^ ^^ powerg or fcchies. 
M s tts l rnfi nn s of part and pment feeUng, in If the antecedent temporary state 

^^li^n^tVb^ and « **» «f tbe rfw^e the 

ay, andis immeantfedy eucceeded *»* fSK0& ^ of that which follows, then 

ill miii ii or pains, or thoughts or it would be unsuitable to speak of the 

In such a case, when there is no mind's having permanent qualities; 

beyond the moment, and no no* but the consequent state results not 

tleerelere, of self, as the continued merely from the antecedent temper- 

_ % of various feeling*, the consciousness gjy 8 tate, but also from the permanent 

ef the mind w either the brief simplepre- nature Bnd constitution of the mind. 

F 1 !!!^ l ^ W ^^^^ZhiA I f > <» the other hand, it be said, that 


tslsmsecosuse to a peculiar Faculty, to be manent nature and capacities of the 
an the ordinary cases of re* mind, and that, therefore, the ante- 

from the ordinary 

mwhkh there is,inlike manner, cedent state is the sole cause of what 

ef some former feeling; of the follows ; it will be somewhat difficult 

s uaj s lhrr with that behef of identity to reconcile this notion with the per- 

is enamonto memory in all its forms, fe^ simplicity and unity which Dr 

^e^sop|K»w,^w^atoiieumewe ^^ attributes to each mental 

yjnlZ rTT^^^^TT 8tate ' ^ sr^aking of mental idenUty, 

•ear, and, in both cases, identif>^«sub. h* »»**» &** following observations : 

jett ef the pest feeling with that which is « I can imagine, for example, the follow* 

tat eabject of a present sensation, weexer- hig objection to be put 

cat, ja the recognition at the longer and ** The changeful appearances of external 

ssstwxmterval«apowerofmeinindthatis things, it maybe said, arc easily coneeiv- 

f easily different in the two cas es; and ab ie, because a mass of matter admits of 

ii _"5? ,r Sjf!?* nmm to * u PP 0ii addition, or subtraction, or at least of 

a specmc difference, when, in an in- change of place of the atoms that compose 

tsrval stdl shorter, the recognition of a com. it flut n mind be, as is asserted, abec-, 

s ssn sub ject of two fechngs has regard to lute i y gimpfe „& indivisible, the same 

» fsssiaii senssrion, and to™***™* 11 *: J at every moment, without addition, or 

ill freshness as afanost to seem present still, tubtraction, or possible change of parts, 

Fran this extract it will be seen _that which is by its very natute mo 

that Dr Brown wiewt the thoughts completely incapable of essential star*. 

tad Mings of the mind as a mutually Hon, cannot admit of any diflfarcuw wtaJU 

04 Brown s Philosophy of the Human Mind. Opril 

ever. If strictly identical, it must be the sufficient to shew what is meant by that 
same in every respect. Now we know, compatibility of sameness and diversity in 
that what is called the Mind, far from things without, to which the internal phe- 
being at every moment the same in every nomena of mind, in their similar union of 
respect, scarcely presents for two successive diversity and sameness, present an analogy 
moments the same phenomena. It is by so striking, as to justify the assertion of the 
its changes, indeed, indirectly, as sentient compatibility as a general law of nature, 
or percipient, and only by its changes, that " A body at rest, we believe, would remain 
all other changes become known to us ; and for ever at rest, but for the application of 
independently of those varying perceptions, some foreign force t when impelled by some 
by which it reveals to us the phenomena of other body, it moves, and, as we believe, 
the material world, it is susceptible of in- would for ever in free space continue to 
numerable modifications of feeling that have move onward, in the line of impulse, with a 
no direct relation to them. Without taking certain velocity proportioned to that impulse. 
into account, therefore, such lasting changes Let us take, then, any series of moments* 
of character, as the mind often exhibits, in a, 6, c, in the continued quiescence, and 
different circumstances of fortune, or at any series of moments x, y, «, in the con- 
different periods of life, are not even its tinued uniform motion. At the moment «, 
more rapid changes, when the feeling of one every atom of the body is in such a state* 
moment has no resemblance whatever to that, in consequence of this state, it does 
the reeling of the preceding moment, suffi- not exhibit any tendency to motion in the 
dent to disprove its absolute identity ? moment b; at the moment x every atom of 
There is unquestionably in these changes a it is in such a state, that in the subsequent 
difference of some sort, and often a differ- moment y 9 though an impelling body be no 
ence as striking, as can be supposed in the longer present, it has a tendency to pass 
feelings of any two minds at the same mo- from one point of space to another; and 
ment. How, then, can that which is so thus progressively, through the series o, o, e 9 
dffirent be absolutely identical 9 and the series x> y, z, the difference of ten- 

" Absolute identity, in the strictest sense dency at each moment is indicative of a 
of that term, and difference of any sort, difference of state at each moment. Every 
seem, I own, when we first consider them* atom of the body, at the moment y is, how- 
to be incompatible: and yet, if such a com- ever, exactly the same atom which it was at 
patibility be found to be true, not of mind the moment b. Nothing is added to die 
only v but of matter itself, the objection that mass ; nothing is taken away from the 
is rounded on the analogy of matter, in the mass : yet how different are the phenomena 
supposed necessity of some integral altera- exhibited, and consequently how different 
tion in its changing phenomena, will lose the tendencies, or physical character, of the 
the force which that analogy had seemed to identical atoms, at these two moments f 
give to it. If every material atom be un- Nay, more, as the varieties of velocity are 
ceasingly changing its state, so as often to infinite, increasing or diminishing with the 
exhibit tendencies the most opposite, and force of the primary impulse or other cause 
yet, in all its changes of physical character, of motion, and as, in the continual pro- 
be, without all auestion, the same substance gressive motion, the cause of the particulai 
which it was be/ore ; it may be allowed, in velocity of that motion at the moment y is 
like manner, that the mind also, with cor- the peculiar 6tate of the atoms at the moment 
responding diversities of character, may ex- r, with any difference of which the velocity 
ist in various, and often in opposite states, also would be different, there is in the va- 
at different times, and yet be in all these rieties even of such simple rectilineal 
changes of state, whether the diversity be motion, without taking into account any 
more or less brief or lasting, the same iden- other varieties arising from any other foreign 
tical substance. causes, an infinite number of states of every 

44 The examination of this compatibility of atom of every mass, with the same continued 
diversity with sameness in external things, identity of the whole : and it is truly not 
may involve a more subtile analysis of the more wonderful, therefore, that the sub- 
general phenomena of matter, than has stance to which we give the name of Mind 
commonly been employed by philosophers, should, without the slightest loss of identity, 
But it is a discussion that is interesting in be affected in succession with joy, sorrow, 
itself, and that is particularly interesting in love, hate, or any other reelings or tendon- 
the present question, as obviating an objec- cies the most opposite, than that a substanet 
tion, the force of which, but for such a to which we give the name of Matter, with. 
proof of exact analogy in the phenomena out the slightest loss of identity, should havi 
of the material world, will be felt most tendencies so opposite as those by which at 
strongly by those who are best qualified to one time it remains, moment after moment, 
judge of such questions. in the same relative point of 6pace, and 

" In the narrow limits of the present out- afterwards Hies through space with a veto- 

lines, it is impossible to state the argument city of which the varieties are infinite, 

in its minuter physical bearings. A single However paradoxical, then, the statement 

illustration, however, from one of the most fa- may appear, it may yet safely be admitted, 

miliar of the phenomena oS matter, may be as a law both of mind and of matter, that 

• _ 

1*20.3 Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind. 65 

that may be a complete change of tenden- things— the others, in consequence of mere 
aa or physical character, without any es- pievious feelings of the mind itaelf. 
moiI change ; and that absolute identity, " In this difference, then, of their ante- 
} in die strictest sense of that term, is con- cedents, we have a ground of primary divi- 
sflteot with infinite diversities. sion. The phenomena may be arranged as 

It is easy to perceive that this new of two classes— the External Affbc- 
-i i uode of viewing the subject must re- T "»™ or the Mind— the Ixtejutal 
' quire • new classification of pheno- Affections of the Mixd. 

mens, unlike those of fonner raeta- 4i In The {oma rf ^ j^ ^ 
physicians ; and Dr Brown according- mit8 of vcry tHgy 8ubdivigion> accord™ to 
fv treats the quesUon of arrangement me bodUy organs affected. 
as follows : " The latter may be divided into two 

"L The very old classification of the Orders— Intellectual States or the 
mental phenomena, as belonging to the Mind, and Emotions. These Orders, 
Cderstandwff and to the Will, has little which are sufficiently distinct in themselves, 
diim to be adopted on the ground of pre- exhaust, as it appears to me, the whole 
aim, even with respect to the phenomena phenomena of the class, 
which it compre h ends ; and there are innu- •• When I say, however, that they are 
affable phenomena, which belong neither sufficiently distinct in their own nature, I 
u the one nor to the other. do not mean to say, that they arc not often 

u xh e arrangement of them under the mingled in one complex state of mind ; in 
HdUctmal Powers of the Mind, and the the some way as when I class separately and 
Aifac Powers of the Mind, is as little wor- distinctly sights and sounds, I do not mean 
thy of adoption. It is indeed almost the that we are incapable of perceiving visually 
saw as the other, under a mere change of the instrument of music, and the musician, 
name. It does not comprehend all the phe- to whom we may be at the same moment 
MDtna ; for, bow is it possible to class such listening. Sight is still one state of mind, 
fadngs as Grief, or the Emotion of Beau- hearing another state of mind ; though there 
tr, as in any peculiar sense, Intellectual or may be a complex state of mind that is vir- 
Artrre, any more than we could class them tually inclusive of both ; and when an In- 
nailer the Understanding or the Will ? And ttUlectual state of mind is accompanied with 
h wtfipm^u even the phenomena which it an emotion, there is as little difficulty in 
docs intrude ; for, if toe word active have distinguishing these elementary feelings by 
any meaning at all, we arc surely as active reflective analysis, as in distinguishing, by 
when we prosecute trains of reasoning or of a similar analysis, the elements of the com- 
Bocy, as when we simply love or esteem, pfex sensation of sight and hearing, 
dtspuc or hate. ** There is one Emotion particularly, the 

Emotion of Desire, which, in this metaphy* 
" II. Let us consider the phenomena, sical sense of composition, mingles very 
then, without regard to any former arrange- largely with our other feelings, both of the 
nest. External and Internal Class, and diversifies 

44 The various feelings of the mind are them so much, in many cases, as to have 
nothing more than the mind itself, existing led to the supposition of many distinct 
in a certain state. They may all, then, be Powers of the mind, from which the pecu- 
ii "*g"* , ^ <l states of the mind, if we consider Har mixed results are supposed to flow, 
ne saeanea simply as reelings : or affections The nature of this illusive belief, however, 
efwumd\ if we co n sider the feelings in rela- will be best seen, when we analyse the com- 
tkn to the prior circumstances that have in- pfex results themselves." 
dated mem, and wish to express by a par- i n treating of the External Percep- 
tJnkr word, not tfie momentary state of ^ j^ Brown y^^ with exaroin _ 
fodingmerely, hatthe "0^^* »• ing in to the nature of those numerous 
ttZZlZ^**'* ^lilysensaaons which arc .not refer- 
- With this distinction of an implied re- aWe to tne morc important organs of 
fcrence in the one case and not in the other, perception, but diffused over the whole 
toe phrases state of mind and affectum of frame, and which hod therefore, he 
mima\ are completely synonimous. They thinks, been too little noticed and 
nay be used to comprehend all our feelings commented upon by former philoso- 
of every order, that are nothing more than phcrs. He says, 
ttates of the mind, the changes of which are 

coextensive with the changeful circum- •' Our muscular frame would not be right- 
*m^— material or mental, that may have ly estimated, if considered merely as that by 
rrrf n rfA them. which motion is performed. It is also truly 

" Of these states or affections of mind, an organ of sense, 
when we consider them in all their variety, " That it is capable, in certain states, of 
there it one physical distinction which can- affording strong sensations, is shown by some 
net fail to strike us. Some of them arise in of our mo.»t painful diseases, and by that 
confluence of the operation of external oppressive uneasiness of fatigue wVuc\\ 


66 Brown* $ Philosophy of the Human Mind. CAprfl 

when any put has been over-exerted. But ries, whether merely remembered as put, 

there are feelings of a fainter kind, increas- or anticipated as future, is felt as of a oar* 

ing in intensity with the exertion employed, tain length. The notion of a certain regu- 

which accompany die simpler contractions, lar and limited length is thus acquired, and 

and enable us in some measure to distin- very soon becomes habitual to the mind of 

guish, independently of the aid of our other the infant ; so habitual to it, that the first 

seasesr our general position or Attitude, feeling which attends the beginning ooav 

These muscular fieRngt I conceive to form traction of the fingers, suggests, of itself, a 

m very important element of many of our length that may be expected to follow, 

complex sensations, in which their influence " It must be remembered, that it is the 

has been little suspected. mere length of a sequence of feelings, at* 

«« It is not to be supposed, however, that tendant on muscular contraction, of which I 

we are able, by a sort of instinctive ana- speak, and not of any knowledge of mutcuW 

tomy, to distinguish the separate muscles of lar parts contracted. The infant does not 

our frame, which may have been brought know that he has fingers which move, even' 

together into play. Our muscular move- when, from an instinctive tendency, or other 

ments themselves are almost always com- primary cause to which we are ignorant how 

plicated ; and our accompanying sensation, to give a name, he sets them in motion ; 

therefore, in such cases, is equally complex, but when they are thus in motion, and a 

But whether the number of muscles em- consequent series of feelings already familiar 

ployed be more or less extensive, and the to him has commenced, he knows the regux 

degree of their contraction be greater or less, lar series ot feelings that are instantly to 

there is one result of sensation which forms follow. 

in every case one state of the mind ; and it " In these circumstances, let us hwgW 

is this joint result alone, which we distin- some hard body to be placed on his little 

guish from other muscular sensations, that palm. The muscular contraction takes place, 

may have resulted, in like manner, from as before, to a certain extent, and with it a 

various degrees of co n tracti on of the same part of the accustomed series ; but, from the 

or different muscles." resistance to the usual full contraction, there 

It is upon the nature of these mus- is a break in the anticipated series of fed* 

cular feelings that Dr Brown founds a m &* the place of the r em a in ing portion of 

most original and remarkable specula- *?*«* » wpphed by a tactual feeling com. 

tion, with regard to our mode of per- J™* ™* ? mtuc^r feeling of another 

^j-:.*-^..-^^^.^:^ «•«! ♦>»« ~J; » kind— that feeling of resistance which has 

cemngspace, extension, and the resist- } ^ at ^3b m AbfUL As often a. 

ance and dimensions ;of solid bodies. me same b&y is placed a^ m the liaod. 

Our first notions of these, he thinks, Ac ^e p^n ^ Ae ^^ rf fedlllgi a, 

are neither referable to sight nor to interrupted by the same new complex ftdU 

touch, but to the scries of sensations ing. It is as little wonderful, therefore, 

experienced in bending the muscles, that this new feeling should suggest or be- 

ana the occasional interruptions of that come representative of the particular length 

series in grasping solid bodies. ot which it supplies the place, as that the 

"3. Let us once more consider the cir- reciprocal sumestion of one object by an- 

cumstances in which the infant first exists, «*? *onio K the result of any other a»so- 

when he is the subject indeed of various daXum M «*>■»• A smaller body mter- 

extemai. if we observe nun as ne lies on !*»"»'" .-«*», w-*^ «* u^^» w • whwu. 
his little couch, there is nothing which "*&** <* "equence interrupted, vanes thus 
strikes us more than his tendency to con- «acUy *>« *• dimensions of the external 
"tinual muscular motion, particularly of the object felt, it is not very wonderftil that the 
parts which are afterwards his great organs ** *™™* become representative of the 
of touch. There is scarcely a moment while othcr; **** thmt the Particular muscular 
he is awake, at which he is not opening or ft" 8 "* °* * et ! stancc ' to combination with 
closing his little fingers, or moving his tittle the tactual feehng, should be attended with 
arms Si some direction. Now, though he notions of J™*?" 11 len , g ? 8, 1 exa ? 1 L t ?St 
does not know that he has a muscular Same, PS to '«• difference oT the length of which 
he is yet susceptible of all the feelings that * umformly supplies me place, 
attend muscular contraction in all its stages. ." ™. only objection which I can con- 
From the moment at which his fingers begin ceive to be made to this theory— if the c»- 
to move towards the palm, to the moment *jn«s be accurately stated, and if the in- 
at which they dose on it, there is a regular adequacy of touch as itself the direct sense 
series of feelings, which is renewed as un- of figure, have been sufficiently shown— is, 
ceasingly as the motion itself is renewed. th * t the len K th of a equence of feelings is 
The beginning of this series, as in every *> completely distinct in character, as to be 
other regular sequence of events in after incapable of being blended with tactual no- 
life, leads to the expectation of the parts tions of space. But this objection, as I flat- 
which are to follow ; and, like any other « m J K]£ 1 havc P^ved, arises from lnat- 
oumber of continuous parts, the whole »e- tention » not to a few only of the phenomena 

tm.] Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind. 67 

« tsmul ncMiraDatt but id all the phe- this hypothesis there is far more ori- 

for in the measurement even of gjnality and invention shewn than in 

unlnr object, as i we have seen, s an y former theory concerning the same 

«b .1^-^™^ WS^J" ^7™"' subject. In so for as regards the ner- 
val vmch we pus our hand along its sur- :• C£ > _. . x° .. . , l 

fas, and theiifcre of die mere length or ce ^ tlon **&** b X 81 S ht > " »> h«*» 

■■mas of the accompanying seriesof fed- cvcr » *> revolting to our natural tecl- 

■p, ■ snmoent to give in our ff*i"w»t a tag 8 or original impressions, as almost 

osntspoodmg difference of length or short- to preclude serious belief. We arc ir- 

■mte the coruce which we touch. Length, rcsistibly led to attribute to colour tho 

■sad, considered abstractly, whether it be same connexion with the perception of 

rf _***.** °£ •yce* fa n othing more in one space, as its cause really has with spoco 

y, "*" *„****** of «" tilluous in the external world. The muscular 

BrftalCSrS sensatioiis expenencc.1 in moving the 

-*. In whatever manner the first mo- ep nmy remind us of succession ami 

saw of the finger* may be produced, the ™»"ge in altering the sphere of vision ; 

wfll soon discover that they are re- DUt *° c relations of parts in a simple 

by his will ; and he will often figure appear to be perceived instan- 

tfass power. From the accustomed taneously ; nor perhaps, if the figure 

he will expect the accustomed occupies but a small space in the sphere 

. . f^^.^. m . ■£** Jj* ; imo i of vision, does the perception of the 

T HAm ;*- * " "• »!"«," dependent of relations of its parts employ any move* 

Z^JL?? M ?J^.r^*.s 7-7 mentoftheeye. A series of muscular 

^pBvoKBi Dcug. i>ertam series ot teei- % « ' .. • « 

ke^KTbeginlmd end in uniform order ; c han g? of ^nsation may be conceived 

fcsstictpatioii of which is fulfilled as often to produce something like the feeling 

si be does not will to suspend them. At of linear progression; but thepropor- 

sat, however, they are suspended, without tions of a figure lengthways and 

wffl on Us put, when some external breadthways (which, even when irrc- 

has been placed in his hand. He gular, are often perceived instantane- 

tbe whole of the accustomed se- o^y w i tn t h e utmost distinctness) 

^V** * ** P 1 *? 8 °i MP *"* o/ 't « now would require to be represeiitcd by a 

tffit wSws^ott 77 ■»? numbe r of =ent «- 

■«■« pmiL i .1Uig the interruption, was ex- of mu^r sensatioiw, Mrresponding 

•es> the same as in the many former in- to the different positions of the points 

ssssas when the regular sequence took that were compared in the figure — a 

skat, he ascribes the Tfeehng of resistance to number indeed far greater than the 

"■as b foreign to him. There is mind seems capable of recollecting or 

thc Pt which is not him self— arranging into one conception. What- 

that represents a number of con. ever degree of probability may be as- 

_ ^ -XS*** * ""l 1 mm * "at mves rise ^^^ to j^ Brown's notions concern- 
is lbs fosiuig of resutanee ; and we have 

sen of a system of external things. Matter subject. The Qualities of space have 
% mat which is without us— which has always proved the most fertile source 
pals resists our effort to compress of difficulties to those who have specu- 
*? lated upon perception. Former nic- 
Thus he thinks that our notion of taphysicians saw that th*e perception of 
space b entirely founded upon a series them accompanied some sensations f 
of jticcessive feelings experienced in but that the qualities of space were 
bending the muscles, and that the no- not themselves the causes of sensation ; 
uon so mnncd is afterwards transferred while all other objects of perception 
to sensations received through the me- were causes of sensation. Dr Brown 
dhnn of other organs, and accompanies has endeavoured to shew that nothing 
them onlr as an acouired perception, is made known to us by the senses but 
He conceives that the optic nerve re- objects that are causes of sensation ; 
cdves only the sensation of colour — and that space is not an object of prc- 
that we do not originally perceive co- sent perception, but of memory, our 
bur spread out in particular figures, notions oi it being founded entirely 
but that we ascribe extension to colour upon the succession of particulars in re- 
si consequence of the series of muscu- membered trains of sensations. 
kw sensations experienced in moving Having, in the first jmrt of the vo- 
ihe eye along the parts of a figure In lumc, discussed tlie external afifcetam 
Vox. VIL I 

86 Brown's Philosophy of ike Human Mind. DMjrfl 

of the mind, he next proceeds to con- jectural, the name of Simple Ssggetuon* 

aider the internal affections, which he mewing by that phrase to express noduif 

subdivides into intellectual states and ■"*■ *f* " '^ f~™* **"*]? 

emotions. The part which relates to in- *• "T?*" ^ c ^i ee ^jS^Ji 

♦oil*** ;- *ii *ulT:- c i • *u ter certain other feelings, as TfwtnM ia ft i 

teUect is all that is found in the pre- f fonnerpeiceirtioiuic^ceptioiisotothtr 

sent volume, which was published in preceding stages of the mind ; and restrict, 

an unfinished state, before the inter- fog the phrase uniformly to such simple as? 

eating branch relative to the emotions, quences of the similar feelings, exclusively 

had been got ready for the press. of all notions of relation of object to object. 

In examining the intellectual states that may occasionally arise from them, and 

of the mind, the author shows admi- °e intermingled with them, 

rable powers of analysis. His obser- ." pu* trains of thought arc not eompas- 

satisfactory ; and the ioUowing quota- be ^ Df ttd eBO|imiBi ^ ^Tway, at it 
tion will enable the reader to perceive <*££ separately, without impressing me 
something of his mode of thinking. with any common relation which theybess. 
" Our Intellectual States of Mind, how- In the same manner as one conception sag- 
ever much they may specifically differ, will gests another conception, the perception at. 
be found, even in their minutest variations, conception of two or more objects suggests 
to exhibit only two generic diversities,— di- or gives rise to certain feelings of relation, 
varsities which, in the ordinary metaphysical which, as states of the mind, diner from the. 
sense of those terms, may be expressed very mere perceptions or conceptions llumseliis,. 
nearly by the phrases, Conceptions, and that have given rise to them, not merely as 
FeeUngt of Relation. Our whole trains of these perceptions or conceptions appear to 
thought, if we abstract from them the Sen- differ from each other, but genericsfly as a 
sations which external objects may occasion- distinct order of feelings, 
ally induce, and the emotions that may fire- " There is an original tendency of lbs. 
quently mingle with them, will be found to mind to the one species of suggestion, av 
be composed of these, and of these alone, certain circumstances, as much as so the 
It is the very nature of the mind to be sus- other ; and as to the one .of these, which, 
ceptible of these in certain trains ; one per- affords us mere copies of former feelings, I. 
caption or conception suggesting, or, in other have given the name of Simple Su gg es t ion ft. 
words, having for its immediate consequent, to the other, which developes a new order of 
some other conception : as when the sight states of mind, in our feelings of relation, I 
of a picture suggests the Artist who painted give the name of Relative Suggestion j— 
it, and the conception of the painter suggests, using the term Suggestion in both cases, as 
in like manner, the name of some other ar- that which expresses most simply the mess 
tist of the same School, and this afterwards general fact of the rise of the feelings bv 
the City in which that School of painting succession, without involving any hypo*. 
chiefly flourished. The successive concep- thesis as to processes of former association,, 
tions, in such cases, arise in the mind, m or any other circumstances, that may be* 
the absence of the external objects that pro- justly or erroneously supposed to eonnsot 
duced originally the corresponding percep- them." 

tions ; and, though capable of being modi. He afterwards enters into an inqui- 

fieo^ecertamexte^bystaresoftEebod4- ^ concerning the principles, accord- 

ll^^^y^^^TZot * » ^^*JZ*a* takes 
lighten their origin, Internal Affections of P 1 * * *&* ****** a fiuITe J «* 
the Mmd,-resuits of a tendency of the , Mr Hume 8 opinions concerning the 
mind itself, in certain circumstances, to ex. laws of association, Dr Brown con- 
1st in one state after existing in some other eludes, that all the relations by which 
state. The tendency to this renovation of conceptions suggest each other, may 
former feelings has commonly received the be traced into Resemblance, Contrast, 
name of Association of Ideas ^ that and former Proximity. He even in- 
fo fruity in various respects, as totting to ^^ to ^^ that suggestions, both 

some mysterious process of anion a* necei ***» analysis, be resolved into the 

sary before the suggestion itself ; which, &™gle principle of proximity, 

whether it be found to be true or not, on a " The general fact of the rise of one con* 

more subtile analysis of the phenomena, is ceptioo, in immediate suggestion by some 

at least not very easy to be reconciled with other conception or perception, is shewn, as 

the opinions of those who invented, or have I have said, bv all the phenomena of our 

continued to employ the phrase. I have trains of thought; and it could scarcely nul 

preferred, therefore, for the sake of greater to be soon remarked, that the suggestion is 

precision, and for avoiding the intermixture not wholly vague and indiscriminate, but 

of any thins; that can be ooosideied as con* that cartam conceptions are, according to 

Browns Philosophy of the Human Mind. 69 

more readily suggested than object referable another, it must resemble it 
Of the knowledge of this readier in some particular circumstance or number 
ta, the use of verbal language, even of circumstances. There must be some part, 
idest state of barbarous life, is a therefore, greater or less, of the complex 
proof; as axe all the rude symbols perception or conception of each, that is the 
sort, that are employed by the most same, or nearly the same, as some part of 
tubes in the first dawning* of ci- the complex perception or conception of the 
i, for recording events in which other ; and as, in both alike, this common 
e nationally or individually taken element has co-existed with the other ele- 
ments of the complex whole, it may, in ei- 
it even savages could not fail to dis- ther case, when only one of the objects is 
jst have been remarked by philoso- present to our perception or our thought, be 
every Age. Yet, though the ten- sufficient for the reciprocal suggestion of 
particular suggestions must have the similar object, and may produce this 
basis of all practical education, so effect without any other influence than that 
ntion had been speculatively paid of the mere proximity of one part to the 
rs which regulate them, that Mr other parts that have before co-existed with 
in reducing under a few general it. In like manner, when two objects are 
! phenomena of " the association of strongly contrasted in any quality, they 
a his Essay on that subject, con- must agree at least in this one respect, that 
nsflf to be the first who had at- they are both extraordinary in relation to 
say such arrangement that quality; they are extremes of it, though 
opinion of the originality of the different extremes. Each, therefore, sing- 
vaa indeed an erroneous one; since ly, may have excited this common sentiment 
onnerauon of the kinds of reminis- of extraordinariness with respect to the same 
cry similar to his own division of particular quality ; and the feeling of ex- 
to be found in one of the Works traordinariness with respect to the same 
pes* Pounder of the Peripatetic quality, that has attended the perception of 
iy, and in other works of interven- both objects, may, like any other part of a 
aa* both of the time of the school- complex whole in which two objects agree, 
of more recent date. But the high be sufficient to produce a reciprocal sug- 
af Mr Hume's name has given to gestion, by the influence of mere co-exist- 
on an importance and a conse- ence. 
to our conuderatum, mater, In treating f aimp i e suggestion, Dr 

'""a?toeS Brown rem ^ k8 ' th * ^vSmridew a 



a,* it is evident, on his own princi- greatly to diversify the order of our 

r be reduced to the head of Conti- conceptions, and so to lead to inven- 

' which it is in truth the most ex- t ion ; for, he observes, it is evident 

Example; and Contrast, which he there could be nothing new in the 

Z2&J^£F^ P rc>duct. of suggestion,^ object*, ac 

.«n^Ziitene^ un- «"*»* to ^ mere F°ximity on 

auutd influence of Resemblance and fonner occasions, were to suggest only 

a), is at least as well entitled to the very objects that had before co-ex- 

i pa i sir class, as either of the two to isted with then : but there is a per- 

s would reduce it petual novelty of combination when 

a, perhaps, however, only in conse- the images, that rise after each other 

if our imperfect analysis of the phe- by that shadowy species of resemblance 

-* Suggestion, that it has been w ^ ich estates analogy, are such as 
— — to reduce them under dis- ^" - 

accessary to reuuee uicui uuuer ui»- . . * , « _ *~l^*u^« M : M 

saaTuappear. to me at least not never existed before together, or in 

Me. that, on a mere minute exam- immediate succession. 

ther may all be found to admit of So much for the succession of mere 

aasdered as examples of the single conceptions in the imagination, and the 

■ to which Mr Hume has given the laws that regulate their succession. 

f Contiguity ; and that every sug- He next proceeds to examine, under 

therefore, may be necessarily of the Jume of « Feelings of Relation/' 

•hat have previously co-existed, or thoge 8tate g f the mind which are 

\tt& awS wheTote -mmonly called Acts of the Under- 

has scarcely ceased when the other standing. 

■ Mll may qc considered almost like We cannot long consider two or more ob- 
it^, jects, without being impressed with some re- 
mbUace, for example, is said to lation which they seem to bear to each other t 
" " of association, But, if one and mis tendency to the suggestion of fe*\- 

70 Brown's Pkiloxophn of the Human Mind. Oprft 

ingso/relatroisequaaVtiueof ourcowxp* they i c spectl f ely contain. The 

.tioiu,orotberintenuda»Botiwisof^min^ or instant sequence of any otie of these feel, 
asof our affections of sense* though, from tags of relation, arte* n*j jetat perception of 
the greater permanence of our perceptions the two objects, seems at little mjst ei iouB — 
when external objects are before us, they the mere perception of the objects after the 
ma? naturally be supposed to give rise to a ne cessar y p revio us organic change, or as any 
wider variety of such feelings of relation. other sequence of feelings whatever t end sf 
In conformity with our original view of nothing had ever been written on the sub- 
tile objects of physical inquiry, the variety ject, the soJtyect iteelf , as for aw regards the 
of relations may be (classed as Bdations of mere simple feeling of relation many parti* 
Co-existence or Belsiioos of Succession ;ac- cular suggestion, wwedd scarcely seem to 
cording as, in the former case, they do not stand in need of any elucidat io n, 
•involve any notion of tune, or as, in the lat- • The dispute concerning the nature 
*er case, they involve necessarily the notion f general ideas (or what is present to 
which is expressed, in its double reference, fa e m^d to the subject of abstract 

reduce?^ SrT^' ^J^T^^S: 

ti»,-^esen*lanceorDin^ cerning a snecies, there is certainly 

liro^Degree^-Cominelie^ present to the mind a coupon of 

relation which a whole bears to the parts those qualities in which the individu- 

tbat are contained in it When we say of als of the species correspond. He say*, 

a cottage, that it stands on tkesiopeofa hill { •« II. When a resemblance is felt in some 

—that it is very like the cottage beside it, of the obvious Qualities of external sen se , ■■ 

but very unKkc one that stands in the val- as when we look on a portrait or pictured 

ley ; that its large sashed windows are out of landscape, and think of the person or the 

proportion to toe size of so diminutive a scene that was meant to be represented by 

building ;— that it is therefore let$ beautiful it ; — no difficulty b felt by any one, in con- 

with alius gaudy profusion of flowers, than sMering the relation. A portrait, or a land- 

the cottage in the valley, with its simple scape, involves no technical word of my- 

latttces, which seem to sparkle mote bright- stery ; andmesimple process of nature, there- 

ly through the honeysuckle that is allowed lore, in which feelings of resemblance arise 

to wreathe itself to their very edge ;— <and in the mind after certain perceptions or con* 

when, describing the interior of it also, we eeptfcms, is all of which we think. But 

say, that it contains only three small chain- when we are called by philosophers to con* 

bers,— in these few simple references, we rider the circumstances on which elsaxmca- 

have illustrated the whole possible variety lion is founded ; though all that trorv takes 

of the Relations of Coexistence ; which ma v place in mis process as essential to tt, is a 

be induced indeed by various objects, with fiseting of resemblance of object to object, 

various specific ditiferences, but which, gen- less extensive indeed as to the number of 

erically, must always be the same with similar circumstances than in a portrait or 

these. Indeed, by an effort of subtlety, landscape, but soil exactly of the same 

more violent perhaps than the phenomena kind, when considered as a mere feeling or 

warrant, it might be possible to reduce still mental state ; we seem immediately to see a 

more even this small number, and to bring, thousand difficulties, because a thousand 

or force, the relations of proportion and de- words of terrible sound start instantly on 

gree under the more comprehensive relation our conception. Yet when, on looking sue- 

of a whole and its various parts. But at cessiverv at a square, an oblong, a rhombus 

least the number under which I have arrang- and a rhomboid, we class them all verbally 

e4 them, as it appears to me to be in its or- as fbur-Hded figures, we make as simple 

der of distribution very easily intelligible, and as intelligible an affirmation, in stating 

seems to me also sufficient for exhausting the similarity of these figures in one com- 

the whole phenomena, for which it was ne- mon circumstance, as when we say of any 

cessary to find a place and a name. portrait in our chamber mat it is like the 

We look on two cottages : — we are not friend for whom H was painted. The two 

merely impressed with all their sensible affirmations express nothing more than a 

qualities, with which each separately, in feeling of resemblance in certain respects ; 

perception, might have affected us exactly and, if we had never heard of the eontro- 

m the same manner as when we perceive versy in the Schools as to the nature of 

them together ; but we consider them rela- Univexsals, we should as little have suspect- 

tively to each other or to other surrounding ed of the one affirmation as of the other, 

things. We think of tbem, therefore, in that it could give occasion to any fierce lo- 

connexion with the place on which they gical warfare. Still less could we have sus- 

stand ; and we are impressed with their een- pected, that philosophers who do not deny 

eral resemblance or difference, with their that we are capable of feeling the resem- 

various proportions, with their comparative blance of a piece of coloured canvass to die 

rtrgrrra of beauty or convenience or other livuur person whom it represents, are yet 

qualities, and with their comprehensiveness unwilling to allow that we feel the slightest 

with regard to the number of parts whkh general resemblance of a square, an oblong, 

j ISW/J Browns Philosophy of the Human Mind. 71 

• ifcxnbue and a rhomboid; and insist ac- cerning the species. But in other 
eawjnefy, that whea we daai these figures cases, the common quality is, perhaps, 
sfjfcrwjtfa^ ii is not because we have any gome shifting relation, which cannot 
eavawnftriuy of their similarity, or any ^ represented hy a one definite and 

■swomisf feelinff or notion whatever* duv» ..• i ^ ^ ■%•% * 

S^^ g thT™ 1 onofth,«p^fi. permanent conception, kept steadily in 

cam, bat beonaseithv our arbitrary plea- vww : *■» for ms »nce> when we sav, 

■i Ma pm tin name " *& numbers below seventy," the 

The sUDsopoces, to whose rondamental common quality here, is a proportion 

cawion on the subject of generalisation I which seems to oe only represented by 

* present aQnde, are chose who hare been the words ; and of which no perma- 
commonly dietina^uehed by the title of No- nent or distinct conception can be 
""£?! f* .* f '"jg* V7 *"*?* formed, as it is different in each case. 
jfitm^itSTlfft 1%*.™ *$ft m ***■"▼. ^ -*•*■* reasoning, the 

ST respect for the talents ofthose who and performs its operations in a very 

amnaJntamedit, a very pots one, should irregular manner. It retains a clear 

jet have tmhod in its support, with the ex- conception of the common quality, so 

capon of a very few names, the genius of long as it can. When it is no longer 

ae sseat wrmprat metaphysicians of our own possible to do so, it probably lays hold 

sal other countries. of some subordinate circumstance in 

The e^enoe of this theory of generalua- relation to it, which can be kept per. 

ass is. that we have no general notions, or mAnAn fi v : n v : Amr . a. a %w , ;„l*.«H 

feeSngs of any JnTwUdi lead us £^JL? IZIlJ*' ^ r . msta ? ce > 

^ernS objects with certain other ln W$d»* ; bs tractiy of the minor 

stecn, that there is nothing general but proposition of a syllocism, we may 

tse cacre names, or other symbols, which sometimes be contented to consider it 

ve eansoy«--«nd that in all the ascending as merely something holding an inter- 

paaatfon, therefore, of Species, Genus, Or- mediate place between the major and 

dtr, awl Class, the arrangement is eonsti- the conclusion, which again may be 

toted, as truly as it is defined by the mere considered as only the first and last 

ri?5if i ' wi S ltf T"^ *"* " propositions in the series, when we 
(eating cf the mind as to any common cur- 1 Jv __ f u-fi™ „. __ v ^.L;^,!.. „,i 
^^iii, of lesemblance intermediate be- ? ay 5 not be ™ B m *"? P^c*"** "y 1 - 
the primary perception of the separate lo S lsm * or minor proposition. And, 
and the verbal designation that probably, our last resort is really to 
em together. mere nominalism ; keeping the mind 
He justly argues, that before ar- ready, however, for immediately fly- 
rmging oftgecta into a class, or species, ing to the common quality when par-* 
ve nasi fint have had a previous feel- ticulars are presented to us. 
ing of their agreement in some parti* As we have mentioned above, the 
ctuar, which rendered them fit to be part of the work which relates to the 
ckssed together ; and that the concep- Emotions remains unpublished, a cir- 
uon of this quality common to them, cumstance which will create disap- 
vim Use conviction, that it is to be pointraent for the present, although 
found in each of them, is all that is the defect may perhaps be afterwards 
Dccesaary to constitute our general supplied from Dr Brown's papers. 
idea of the class. Yet, in different The present volume, even in its unfi-. 
cases, there are very great differences, nished state, is considerably larger 
with regard to the fitness of the com- than that abstract which was publish* 
von quality, to be conceived distinct* ed of Professor Stewart's Lectures, 
ry by iteeLu for a similar purpose. There is no- 
lo some cases, one definite con- thing in it left obscure for the sake of 
ceptioa can represent the common brevity, (whatever might have been 
quality, and can be applied successive- the interest of more copious illustra* 
ly to the whole individuals of the spe- tions) and it is not yet known whe- 
ats without suffering much change or ther there is an intention of publish* 
■wdification. As, for instance, when ing Dr Brown's Lectures in a more 
we say. " all flowers with four white ample and perfect form. Perhaps the 
leaves, 9 ' the conception of four white completion of the present volume 
leaves may continue present to the would be the best step, in the mean 
~ ' * during all our reasoning con- time. 





By James Crosslet, Esq. 


A witching child, to whom 'as given 

All hearts to challenge as thy due— 
Thou fairest print of childhood's Heav'n 

That ever Nature*! pencil drew ! 
Delightful, as the holf hymn 
Of meek and sainted cherubim, 
And gladdening, as the fountain near 
That greets the desert's wanderer— 
Thy countenance I still behold 

Pure, as if earth, and earth's despising, 
Composed— as if from marble cold 

Thou wert but just to lire arising— 
Soil do I see thy silk-fring'd eyes 

With innocence and archness dawning— 
Thy cheek, which health's rich painting dyes 

With all the loveliest hues or morning— 
The rose, which blushes on a skin 
Transparent as the mind within ; 
Thy mouth, whose upper lip, to smother 
Its rival, hides its under brother, 
As if too jealous to reveal 
The prisoner of its coral seal ; 
Till tund'ring, when it shows beneath 
A Up whereheav'n itself might breathe- 
As leaves, when by the breeze untwin'd, 
They show the downy peach behind. 

Bora, where the giant Ganges pours 

Hit streams magnificent along, 
•Mid sunny groves and golden bow*rs. 

Which breathe aloft immortal song ; 
*Mid solemn glades and thickets lorn, 
By Brachman rs worshipp*d f oo ts tep s worn ; 
And now a ftWr of Eastern birth 
Transplanted to a colder earth— 
Tom from its parent genial stem 
To grace the Western diadem. 
Oh ! o'er its head, may each rough gale 

Unhurting pass with arrowy fk 
The gentlest breescs of the vale, 

And but the gentlest, kiss its 

May o'er mat flower some Sylph of Air 
With mote than parent's fondness hover ; 

Hang o'er its sweets with watchful care. 
And all its budding charms 

Untold its beauties one by one, 

And opt its blossom* to me am 

tor, fcr from mot be sorrow's blight, 
Batnorse, or hcsurt^oricdmw sadness ; 

Tnr way may joy for ever hght 

With boundmg mirth and neaVnly ghaV 

^Maa * 
For taw* them shouafst a temple be, 

And sure that forehead, white at snow, 
That smooth and yet un wrinkled brow- 
That face eternally serene- 
That eye where Eden's self is seen— 
To wound, to mark, destroy, deface, 
And all their characters of grace, 
With grief or sorrow's piercing edge, 
'Twere sin— 'twere more than sacrilege. 


Tho* Sorrow's lot is borne by each, 

And Man's sad cup on earth is care, 
And bold is he who rain will teach. 

To torture these, and those to spare. 
Yet some should sure be left Mankind, 
The solace of their woes behind, 
To gild this Lazar House with beams 
That emanate from Light's pure streams, 
On life to throw one transient ray, 
And give its night the blaze of day ; 
8ome, some there are, to whom their weak 

Itself, should strong protection yield. 
Whom Innocence, and Angel Meekness, 

Should cover as a seven-mid shield. 
The great, unmourn'd, may rail or die, 
But such shall have our sympathy. 
When tempest's force, or lightning's stroke, 
Cleaves from its base the lofty oak, 
Unmov'd we see the mighty bound 
That throws its greatness to the ground $ 
But who can see, and see unheeding. 

The rose, but op'ning, fade away. 
The mildew on its beauties feeding. 

And blights corrode ha sweets away P— 
Or who can see, with eyes unwet, 

Uptorn the lovely violet ? 

Such, oh ! may such be ne'er thy sate ; 

Thy couch may withering angussh flee t 
May all mat decks the good and great, 

Its trophies lend to honour thee. 
And render thee whue here a guest 

Of joy the giver and partaker, 
A thing not blessing more man blest, 

An angel made, and angel maker,— 
An orb, whose glorious course of fire 
No clouds can veil, or length can tire. 
Whose lamp of light, and •undrawn nam* 
Shall, like its source, be soil the 
Or, as the symphony that springs 
rrom some unseen, etnerca 
Which hearing, man in so 

That sounds so sweet should stray below 
Gives to the brcete bis soul, as tost 

Its magic whispers come and go. 
Lists to its notes, a* sweet they play. 
And bean his gi o t s u parts away. 

1% sweet to pause 



to view, from summit steep, 
moe go where once we went, 
i glad days, and journeying all, 
t* to Mmie rich festival ; 
them stray from side to side, 
r the bandit gang of pain, 

with minds new purified, 

our pilgrimage again. 
a gladdening sense of glee 
iy presence abed on me ; 

And while to earth's enduring race 

This mind and mem*ry shall belong* 
In them, thy beaming charms and face 

Shall ever live and linger long. 
Charms which, as some bright form,— some 

Of light and life our youth that met, 
Tis man's first work, and beat, to mark,— - 

His last, and hardest to forget. 
Manchester, 13th March, 182a 


No. I. 

Hakon Jarl, a Tragedy ; by Adam Oehlenschlager. 

about to introduce to the the German masters in their most sue* 

nee of our readers, a great cessful efforts, the Danes have, in con- 

enmark, whose compositions, sequence of this very adherence, be- 

Live language, have rendered come poets of a totally different order 

hief living pride of his own from the Germans. Like them, they 

while his German versions arc intensely national — and that single 

ams compositions have en- circumstance points out abundantly 

i, according to the judgment both the nature of the resemblance 

«t enlightened contempora- they bear to them, and the wide mea- 

t with the full privileges of sure of the difference which obtains 

red denizen among the heirs between them. Drawing their ima- 

sentatives of the illustrious gery from the kindred, but far purer 

of the modern poetry of sources of Scandinavian mythology and 

The most severe of Ger- romance — and applying these, and all 

a are constrained to admit, the other instruments of their art, to 

Kenschlager writes the Ian- the illustrations of the history, the 

Schiller as correctly, as if its manners, and the old life of a kindred 

id been the earliest that ever also, but nevertheless a very different 

i ear— so that we might very people, — the poets who sing of the 

e considered him in the light downfall of Odin, and the rearing of 

■r German classic, and pro- the Cross among the rough Earls of 

analyze his works in part of the Baltic shores, are in no danger of 

aeries which has already being confounded, by such as have 

>wn to the readers of Eng- studied their works, with those that 

neriU of Adolphus Mullner, record the proud visions of Wallen- 

cia Grillparzer. But every stein, and tne mild generosity of Eg- 

alius owes to his own coun- mont. 

aacred debt of cultivating, Of all the modern Danish Poets, 
g» and cherishing her Ian- Oehlenschlager is the most deeply and 
nd as Oehlenschlager has, in essentially imbued with this prevail- 
many temptations, adhered ing spirit of Scandinavian thought. 
lift to this rule of duty, we Almost all the tragedies he has written 
ink ourselves very much to — and all his excellent tragedies, with 
re we to treat him merely as the one splendid exception of the Con- 
i poet The literature of eggio— are founded on incidents of 
is the chief living ornament, the old history of the Norsemen, 
closely allied to that of Ger- The wild unbridled spirits of those 
it it has been developed, not- haughty Sea-kings that carried ravage 
ing, in a manner perfectly and terror upon all the coasts of Eu- 
an. It is as different from rope— the high, warm, unswerving 
we of Germany as the li- love of those northern dames that wel- 
f Germany is from that of corned them on their return to their 
-cr as the literature of Por- native ice-girt fastnesses— the dark 
om that of Castille. Acting ferocious superstitions which made 

same general principle of these bold men the willing sport and 

i has swayed the greatest of tool* of demons— their aacn&CB* <£ 


M Hakon Jar!, a Tragedy; by Adam Oehknschlagcr. £ April 

blood—their uprooting* of tenderness Tho* To Judge 

— their solemn and rejoicing submis- By your surprise, my lord, and if I 

sion when fate irresistible arresta them T °?y **£? 7°°* "■■■» ■"* •"* ™ 

in their buovant and triumphant breath J^SLnon 7 "**~^ f 

of atrife-their hot impetuous lawless ^ muft obc ^ a*',^ w^ , , 

living— their cold calm dying— and u <xdj seem**. With the mukiuak 

their desperate ignorance of the name i mas t dissemble.— Now we are alone, 

of despair— such are the characters Hear me ! Whate'er of Ola/ thou hast 

and such the passions that Oehlen- I knew it long before. 

schlager has delighted to contemplate Tho. His warlike fame 

as an antiquarian, and dared to depict Had *J»*h*d to Norway ? 

as a Tragedian. The materials are ST^*** _ 

rich surely— but it demanded all the „?*■• .?5 ee S w ^TT a 

audacity of gemus to grapple with Hdu Give methinc handf 

them— and all the delicacies of perfect in pledge of thy nrm loyalty ! . 

skill to adorn the victory and justify rooTrhereto, 

the boldness. Thy kindness and my gratitude most bind 

The history of Earl Hakon, well 

known to all those who have read the Hak. Thou art a man even after 

Scandinavian ballads, forms the sub- *** *"•* I ^ u * . , ** «*- ^ 

jeet oft we think, the noblest of all ** "tjj^ ksnjTcWWsth 

J^Pjj t Sf dle t 1 ^J 16 !? 1 ThoukSv^ieguIatet^ 
^LSrt 4 - t^ goMa-haired, the A nd if chrtnicdonTimfofe^ «i« t 
rightful heir of the crown of Norway, w^ boldness thou can'st use thy battle- 
was left by his father in possession of sword, 
his Irish conquests, and there main* And as thy wisdom is exerted, still 
tained in his youth the state of a So must thy plan* succeed, 
pirate king— but all his Scandinavian Tho. The gods endow us 
possessions, except only the royal Wlth ■** *** boAes-^Each must bear 

title, were usurped in his infancy by j^JJ 1 ^ discovers thatto which 

Earl Hakon. The young king, how- bynature «-*«»«• •«■* «* •»*«■■ 

ever, in Ae course of one of his expe- He has been destin'd. His own impulses 

ditions, landed on one of the green Awake the slumbering energies of mind ; 

islands off the Norwegian coast, and Thence he attains what he feels power to 

his arrival there was no sooner known, reach ; 

than a strong party in Norway, dis- Nor for his actions other ground requires. 

Rusted with the tyrannies and the Tho. Itfa most tr ue. 

licentiousness of the usurper, began to ««J^yi»"on evermore 

proclaim their sense of his rights, and Hli ^ * ^T* 10 w<ar "* erown rf 

their determination to throw off their This was me ivourite vision of my souL 

allegiance to Hakon. The Christian xho. That virion is already realucd. 

faith of Olaf, however, (for the young Hak. Not quite, my friend— Almost, but 

prince had been converted at Dublin) yet not wholly. 

gives Hakon confidence— he is per- Still am I styTd but Hakon Jarl— the name 

auaded that Odin will protect him, Whereto I was begot and bom. 

and that die mass of his subjects will „ r*e.Tistnie« 

not receive as their monarch an apos- ^J^E^ ** hl * 

tate from the creed of their forefethers. H ave oft sumS that our Northern hemes 

The &st scene we shall extract repre- win ^ ^^ it mow ^^ fhjdK hgaXm 

sents Hakon as talking m a holy grove go,' 

of pines, with Thorer, one of his chief a monarch to obey than a mere Jar!, 

captains, concerning the arrival of the Therefore at the next congress I resolve 

Christian prince. At ones to explain my wishes and intent. 

Hak. We are alone. Within this sacred Bergthor,tbefflm^abraveoM Dranthcan. 

Dans noons come but Odin's priests and Labours already to prepare my crown_ 

Hakon. When it is made I shaft appoint the day. 

Tho. Such confidence, my lord, makes Tho. Whate'er may chance, thou an in- 

. Thorer proud. deed a king. 
Hak. So, Thorer, thou believ'st all that Hak. Thou judgest like a trader, stffl of 
to-day gain- 
Was told of Olaf Tryevason at table, But yet, methinks, the mere external spka- 
TQ1 mat hour was unknown to me ? dour 


* wa-3 

bast soke 

Hmktm Jmrt, a Tragedy; 

Even 4o the lever 
is not so rap- 

As to a monarch's head the golden crown— 
Mj favourite goal is near. But now the 

Dim ton dose ; the twilight dews descend ; 
tad, as the poet sings, ray raven locks 
An mixed with frequent gray. Gire me 

uiine hand : 
Erevhue I could have grasp'd thee, till the 

Sprang from thy nails, like sap from a green 

Stf to me truly, hast thou felt it now ? 
7*a. The strongest pressure may not, from 
a man* 
font complaint 

Mat. But mine was no strong pressure. 
Tsm speek'st but to console me. See'stthou 

Mjfersheadis with wrinkles deeply plough'd. 
Tha. Such lineaments become a warlike 

Hafc. Yet Norway's maidens love them 
not. In short, 
Uj friend, I now grow old ; but therefore 

The l a mghi of mine evening would enjoy.— 
Clearly my sun shall set Woe to the 

last strives to darken its last purple radiance ! 
7V. -Where is that cloud ? 
Us*. Even in the West 
Tk§, Thou mean's* 
Oaf in Dublin? 

HdL He is sprung from Herald, 
flamasn'd the YeHow.lock*d— Know*st thou 

the Norsemen? 
A powerful, strong, heroic race, yet full 

on and of prejudice ; 
i know rail wall that in a moment's space 
IB Makon's services they will forget. 
And only think of Olaf *s birth, whene'er 
They know that he survives. 

7%*. Can this be so? 

J7ak. I know my people.— And shall this 

This traitor to his country (who has serv'd 
With Otto ay hut Norway, on pretence 
Of Christian piety), ascend our throne, 
And saw/ the crown from Hakon ? 

I*o. Who dare think so P 

tfafc I think so, friend; and Olaf too— 
Now mark me s 
He is the last ausssndant of Kins; Harald ; 
Yet Hakon's race yields not to his. Of old 
The Jade af Hlade over were the first 

_j ; and no one now remains 
Of oar old ro^l line, but this vain dreamer, 
Whs has Juts w o i n the manners and the frith 
Of Ins own native land—a xsosom'd slave, 
Bam in a dcsart of an exil'd mother, &c. 

of the earl is here in- 

hy the discovery that he is 

overheard by a beautiful virgin, who 

hat aomaealad faraett behind one of 

the conaecrated trees. This maiden 

Vol. VU. 

by Adam Geftfenschlager. 75 

Gudnrn, daughter of Ac old fkrdth 
Bergthor, has come thither to make 
an offering to the Goddess Frejra, 
— for she is a bride, and the day 
of her nuptials is at hand. Tjhe earl 
is captivated by her beauty, and im- 
mediately begins to urge me suit of a 
tyrant with tyrannic boldness; but 
the arrival of Carlsoftat and Jostein, 
two more of his friends, .constrains 
turn to resume his conversation con- 
cerning Olaf, and the maiden makes 
her escape for the present. 

Mak. Enough. I calTd you to |his meet- 
ing here, 
That I may speak in friendly confidence : 
I know you love me, and deserve this trust 
Then listen— for the times require decision. 
My life has past away in strife and storm,— 
.Full many a rock, and many a .thicket wild, 
Have I by violence torn up and destroyed, 
Ere in its lofty strength, the tree at last 
Could rise on high. Well ! that is now ful- 

My name has spread o'er Norway with re- 
Only mine enemies can my fame decry. 
I have met bravery with bravery— 
Andartifice with art — and death with death! 
Weak Harald Schaafell, and his brothers, 

Injure the realm no more; for they are 

If I prov'd faithless to the gold-rich Harald* 
Yet had his baseness well deserved hisfate.— 
The youthful powers of Jomsburg now no 

May fill the seas with terror. I have them 
Extirpated. This kingdom every storm 
Has honourably weather'd— and 'twas I 
That had the helm— I only was the pilot; 
1 have alone directed— sav'd the vessel,— 
And therefore would I still the steersman be; 
Still hold my station. 

Thar. 'Tis no more than justice. 
Hak. Olaf abne is left of the old line; 
And think'st thou he is tranquil now in 

What would'st thou say, wise Thom, if <l 

told thee, 
In one brief word, that he is here ? 
Tho. Here? 
Hak. Aye. 

Cork. What, here in Norway ? is it pos- 
sible ! 
Hak. (to Thorer.) I could not choose but 
smile, when thou to-day, 
Long stories told us of thy pious friend 
Olaf, in Dublin,— even as if mine eyes 
Have not long since been watching him I— 

I heard 
Your words in silence */*»*,— but now 'tis 

Freely to speak. This morning news arrived, 
That Olaf with a fleet had sail'd from 

To visit Russia, but mearorhfla has Irafefl, 


76 Uakon Jari, a Tragedy; 

Hanfby us hoe at Moster, with intent, 

At it is said, but to salute his country 

After long absenc e. 

Thor. This indeed is strange. 
Hale If, like a wild enthusiast, he in 

Has lingered on his way but to refresh 

His lungs with some pure draughts of moun- 
tain air, 

I know not ; but this much must be deter- 

Whether beneath an innocent wish he bears 

Some deep concealed intention. Thou hast 

His guest at Dublin ; therefore, on the claim 

Of old acquaintance, now can'st visit him. < 

The wind is fair ;— early to-morrow morn- 

Thou could'st be there. 

Thor. And what is thy design ? 
Hak. No more but to discover Air de- 

And if he tarries longer on our ground. 

At once to meet him on the battle-field. 

Brave warriors love such meetings, and 
search not 

Too scrupulously for grounds of their con- 

He has a fleet like mine ;— power against 
power ;— 

Such is our northern courtesy. Few words, 

Methinks, are needful. 
Jot. Surely not. 
Thor. But how 

Shall I detain him ? 
Hak. Visit him ! and say, 

What doubtless he has wish'd to hear,— 
That Hakon 

Far through the land is hated ; that men 

But for a warrior of the rightful line 

To tear him from the throne. If this suc- 

Then let him disembark. On the firm 

Right gladly will I try the chance of war ; 

But if the bait allures not,— why, 'tis well, 

Then let him go. 
Thor. Now, Sir, I understand, 

And am obedient. 
Hak. Thou shall not in vain 

Have served me, Thorer. 
Tho. That, indeed, 1 know, 

Hakon's rewards are princely,— yet without 

I had been firm. 
Hak. (Shaking him by the hand). 

Mine honest friend. {Turning to the otltert.) 
And you, 

As Olaf 's cousins, will you go with Thorer, 

And second his attempts ? 
Jot. We are his cousins,— 

But Hakon is our patron and commander ; 

By joining in this plan we shall but prove 

King Olaf s innocence. 
Thor. TiswelL 

They all three then swear fidelity to 


by Adam OehUnschiager. 


Hakon ; at which instant the marble 
statue of Odin rails to the ground. 
Hakon endeavours to persuade them 
that the marble has long been in a 
state of decay ; but after their depart- 
ure, expresses, in a soliloquy, his sensi- 
bility to the event as a disastrous 

The concluding scene of the first act 
has been much approved by a con- 
temporary critic, Francis Horn. In 
it, Hakon is represented as visiting 
the old Smith already alluded to. 
After expressing his admiration of 
Gudruu, (whom her father by this 
time has locked up in a cellar with 
iron doors) he tries on his crown, 
which, being framed on an old mea- 
sure of the Norwegian kings, is too 
large, and falls down over nis eves. 
He threatens the unsuccessful maker, 
and gives him three days to com- 
plete his work; — on which Bergthor 

I am an old man ; and my hoary head 
Is like a snow-crown'd rock. Thou giv'st 

three days, 
And Heaven, perchance, may not allow three 

Think'st thou that I shall tremble at thy 

No— sooner on mine own sword let me tall. 
Than change the measure of the sacred 

Let it remain for those to whom Heaves 

Capacity to wear ft— 

The second act opens with the first 
interview between the crafty ambas- 
sador of Hakon and king Ohf — 
at which the cousins of the latter, 
Carlshofort and Jostein, are also pre- 
sent. Olaf thus beautifully describes 
the feelings by which he had been 
guided to visit his native land. 
Olaf. How stands old Norway, then, dear 

friends ?— I go, 
As you perchance have heard, to Russia.— • 
There lately died my foster-father Wal- 

The kingdom is disordered ; and his son, 
Iman, my friend, defends the Christian 

I hasten to his aid in war and council^— 
With soldiers, priests, and ships. We satt'd 

right onward ; 
I had no thought of Norway— Yet behold 
Out of the sea, from far, the well-known 

Rose on my sight. There with their massy 

The dark tall pine trees seemM to beckon to 

Then all at once* the azure wares thai 



Hakon Jarl, a Tragedy ; by Adam Oehlenichlager. 


■hip were chang'd to fairy 
Their dashing sound was music ; and they 

To ne alone a half- forgotten lay 

Of early childhood.— The full swelling sails 

BesVl their white bosoms, amorously to 

The much lor'd shore. The streamer gaily 

J^tssdng its red wings like a bird on high, 
As if impatiently it would forsake 
Tk meat, and flutter to the land. Oh then, 
Ho longer could I think of sailing past- 
ures there a son, who from a mother's arms 
Bjsdry outstretched, will coldly turn away ? 
11 observation to avoid, hare I 
Leased upon this lonely isle, by none 
Iaaabited; where some poor shepherds' huts 
1st mrery mid the rocks are found. Yet 

Debt gbdly of old Norway would I hear 
tee tidings ere I go. Who knows if ever 
My nadveUnd I shall again behold ? 
Taoerore, I pray thee, Thorer,tell me truly, 
Hsv stands our country now— still pros- 
TKor. Norway on her own everlasting 

Studs firm indeed ; and vainly as before 
Beats the wild ocean round her towering 

rs£nparts<— - 
Whereon the proud sun moderates his 

Oih to shine within the vales more warmly, 
Aad ripen the rich harvest. Yet while all 
& ftmrishrs viUiout* a frightful poison 
Drfoars the vitals of the unhappy land — 
01s/ Is not Jarl Hakon dear to his tried 

Titer. The wretch is hated as he hath de- 

Yet undisturbed has reigned for 
eighteen years? 
Thor. Such reign he owes all to his former 

His luck in war— and the rash choice of 

Who had no better ruler.— 

01s/ But has prudence 
Deserted him? 

Thor. Nay he deserted her ; — 
Proudly behev'd such aid no longer need- 
Jarl Hakon ! (it was said)— He is indeed 
An hero! Erich's sons has vanquished all— 
And Norway rescued from the yoke of Den- 

Hie warlike powers of Jomsburg rooted 

out! — 
What may resist his prowess?— By such fame 
Aad fortune raisM to pride and confidence, 
He lost all caution, and ere long forgot. 
That of a kingly throne the subject's love 
Should be the surest pillar. Now he gave 
Loose veins to every lust and every passion; 
ThfhiwbanfTi right -thr law that guards the 

No more respected— from their sacred homes 

Brought wives and daughters to return dis- 

What need of more ? At once in many 

The flames of insurrection Van to blaze — 
He fear'd no more a foreign foe, and saw not 
That which in secret, like a slow disease, 
Rose in the heart of Norway. Hence his life 
Is but a ceaseless warfare. Now on this, 
And now on that side angry foes arise.— 
Our country waits but one brave rightful 

To hurl the robber from the throne. 

Olaf Indeed ? 
Can this be possible ? 

Thor. Your cousins here. 
My words can well confirm.— 

The rest of this fine scene gradually 
unfolds the determination of Olaf 
to deliver Norway from the tyranny 
of Hakon ; and assert his own right- 
ful claims to the throne. Towards 
the end he is left alone, and over- 
powered by his feelings of patriotic 
attachment, and by the high de- 
signs which he has conceived, he 
bursts into tears, and, falling on his 
knees, utters the following prayer or 

My heart is melted by the thought— Oh 

Am I indeed the humble instrument 
That thou hast chosen on earth to spread 

thy blessings ? 
Father ! I do resign all will but thine— 
Oh guide— instruct me ! — 

(Ruing up vith ammatuM*) 
1 can feel it now ! 
Mine arm is strong — my bosom swells with 

I shall be thine apostle.— With this sword 
In likeness of the cross, I shall resist 
With dauntless heart tliine enemies and 

guard — 
My flocks paternally. Where Odin's temple 
In gloom and horror stood, withblood-stain'd 

Now shall the clouds of incense float around ; 
No horrid sacrifice again be known ;— 
No mingling cry of victims or beholders 
Profane the quiet woods ; but soothing mu- 
On downy wings, exalt the soul to heaven.— 
With deep devotion shall the people stand 
The service to behold of the true church. 
No more shall feasts pollute the sanctuary- 
Only die holy supper shall to us 
Announce that every joy must come from 

heaven ! 
Away with hatred, violence and blood ! 
Now innocence and love shall reign and 
conquer ! 

In the next scene, Hakon, cased in 
armour, meets by accident with Tho- 
ra, his principal favourite among many 
mistresses, and the only one ty *\tom, 

78 Hakon Jar I; a Tragedy, by Adam OeJJeMcHager. O^P* 3 

a* k afterwards appear*, he had been which fee had overheard & their f*ri~ 

really belored. Irritated by the cir- vate conversation together. He also 

cnmstances in which he now finds describes the powerful insurrection a- 

himself, he speaks to her with cold* gainst the tyrant, in consequence of 

ness, levity, and disdain ; which pro* his attempt to carry off the bride, 

vokea, on her part, severe complaints Gudrun, from the marriage &strva£ 

and reproaches. In truth, the charms Filled with horror and indignation, 

of Gudrun (betrothed to Ofrm of Lyr- they consider themselves absolved from 

gia) seem to hare wholly effaced in every former engagement, sad all three 

the mind of Hakon his love for the join in resolving to protect king Ofarf ; 

unfortunate Thora. She is left to the and to render futile the vile plot winch 

care of servants, with commands that the watchfulness of Grib had disoor- 

she shall be carried to Rimol, where ered. 

she afterwards receive* and protects Meanwhile a sound of choral nmaac 

the faithless Jarl, in a situation which is heard from the row-approaching 

will be fully developed in the fifth act. ships of Olaf, who is soon sJterwaads 

After her exit, Einar (an archer) seen to land with a large white banner, 

comes on the staye (the scene is a on which a red cross is woven, in hie 

wood), and after sitting on the stump hand ; and, after a solemn hymn by 

of a tree, and adjusting his bow, looks his priests, he Hfts it on high, and 

about for some object to shoot at, when then strikes it into the ground, with 

he perceives Hakon Jarl walking at a the following address :— - 

distance, and snoots an arrow right ^ - „ _ - - . .. _ . 

through the plume of his hemTet. °^J| CW decp * m *»"** 

The Dialogue here ^is given with great i plant this Chthtfan standard. Likea-^, 

Sunt Hakon, who at first accuses Powerfully will it strike forth roots, and 

inar of intended assassination, is af- bear 

terwards convinced, by trials of his The richest blossoms. Tears of penitence 

superior skill, not only that no injury And deep devotion will its leaves bedew ; 

was intended, but that such a marks* ^°d &* warm summer breath of pious sighs 

man will be of infinite advantage in Ri P en the fruit. The choir of mingling 

ntr«ni A £ ^^S^t «■*. "Si music of the summer wood, 

narae one of his most valuable adhe, F «hu me deep vaulted shade arise on mgh; 

rem ~* And the green branches of the deathless oak 

The second act oonctudes with a Over their native land extend afar, 

powerful and effective scene at the Within their sanctuary, Love and Faith 

wedding feast of Gudrun, where, ac- And Hone will take their places, and like 

cording to a common practice of the children, 

tyrant Jarl, a band of soldiers enter, jJ&tof&towS^mmimtaiMaHB 

and endeavour, by violence, to carry S&i? !3« ght g °I * ^i T h i fan e i 

off the bride. Tnis insult/however, 22^^JE? litfl^L. h_ 

meets at last with due pimishment! E ^7 ffi * ar ""*"• LAc "** chcrub - 

The vile emissaries of Hakon are re- Spreading their wings, the flowers of Innc 

pulsed, and all the wedding party so* cence 

leranlyswearimplacablerevengeagainst Will circle round the tree. In wad affright, 

the usurper. Shall one-eyed fiery Odin wend afar 

In the beginning of the third act, To naked rocks and desarts. Vainly there 

the scene of which is on the island If P°* erie * efforts waste himself once more 

Matter, Grib, the servant of Thorer, £° «■« *• J^ *, 1 "/' ■■?»"■ a *■* 

informs Carlahofut and Jostein, that D ^^ ve8 howl *"** But *• bt0 * d 

Hakon has arrived privately, and Will from the stms of Norway turn away 

moored his vessel in a small bay, un- The giant's cry, while in the verdant bower 

der covert of the wood. They are sur*- Calmly they rest 

prised that Olaf has not encountered AIL Amen ! 

him on the water, as he had appointed Olaf. The land is bless'd. 

to sail round with his fleet to the same °° now » m y friend* and pitch your tents, 

side of the island ; but it appears that „ . *? d £ere ^ ^ L 

Hakon had come before Sy-light. En ^ ldk * m€ l\ f** *?^ you L , 

Grib then discloses to the two young NoWf {Thc PrU$ii aud SMtcr ' rcttr€ > 

men an abominable plot for the pri- Dear'cousins, honest friends, will you not 

Vate assassination of Olaf, contrived join 

Sy his master Thorer and Hakon, Olaf against his foes ? 

l«fc J J&AsftV/or/, a Tragedy; by Adam 0*hU*$ehLager. 


At, Anew! 

Ctrl Gswet sJftg ! 

Os/. How's this? 

Jot* (faseeJi*y.) Accept owr sstftit lives. 

Carl Strike off 

<*s)CWb*m«aiKth* kneeling? 

/«. We are traitors. 

Cmi. Basely we have betay'd thee. 

Oa£ Hew ?— betray'd ! 
It cannot be. It ail then but a dreasi ? 
awl m HaketTs snares ? 

Jos. Fear nothing, tire. 

Okf. I sear net hell itaelf— &j lest Jarf 

lit up !— Why ehonU'st thou kneel ?— if 

thou hast sinn'd, 
Of Heaven's avenging sword ! 

Tlie rest of this scene in occupied 
ti* « full disclosure to Olaf of the 
aura which had been laid for him ; 
tsl Jostein satisfactorily accounts for 
las own and his brother s former par- 
ticipation in Hakon's plans, and for 
their determination now to become his 
most decided enemies* They suggest 
to Olaf thst Hakon is now in his pow- 
er, having arrived at the island with a 
nee infinitely inferior to that of the 

After their disappearance, Thorer, 
a basket and a dagger, enters, 
by Grib, in whom he still 
himself to possess an obedi- 
ent end faithful adherent. We regret 
not having room for the spirited and 
effective dialogue which passes between 
them. Thorer gives the poisoned dag- 
ger to Grib, and instructs him, that 
when they have come up with, and 
entered into conversation with Olaf, he 
shall suddenly plunge the weapon in* 
to his heart, and afterwards cut off his 
bead, and carry it in the basket to 
Hakon, who will be waiting to receive 
ft, and to reward the murderer with 
liberty and ft sword of honour. The 
slave listens, with affected obsequious- 
ness and inward contempt, to all the 
discourse of Thorer, (which is skil- 
fully protracted) till at last, in a par- 
oxysm of indignation, he renders his 
master the victim of his own trencher- 
Ms plans, by stabbing him to the 

Olaf, who happens to return imme- 
diately after the death of Thorer, re- 
wards Grib (who is thenceforward 
called Greif or Griffin) with those 
honours which had been promised to 
him as an adherent of Hakon. The 
scene then changes to another part of 
the wood. 

{Hakon, fitting on a atone b*fi#i+ shepherd?* 
hut, meditating^ and striking hit Jbre- 

Hak. It was set my resolve—it cane 
from Thorer. — 
Aye, by the gods, let bin defend the deed I— 
Yet Odin must approve. Shall sot the mad- 
That threatens even the gods, be over- 

whelm'd ? 
Net Hakon's power alsoe, hut Odin's too, 
He would resist. So let him fall, and then 
Fortune will smile again, and all be welt 
'Tie time inde ed m y hair is gray— but 

Ere long the maidens on my head will view 
The golden crown, that with its yellow 

Shall more than youthful charms bestow— 

Who's there ?— 
"Ha Thorer surely with the head of Olaf. 
I dare not look on it 

{He remains m hit firmer position. Olaf 
cnten % wrapt up in a cloak, with a large 
hat drawn over hit eye*.) 
Mine honest Thorer! 
Has all gone well ?— and hast thou brought 

to me 
What thou didst promise? Answer me, 
good friend. 
Olaf. All has gone welL Forgive thy ser- 
vant Thorer, 
That he has not himself brought Olaf! 

He sends me here as his ambassador. 
Hak. Well, go, and in the earth let H be 
Deep, deep, I say !— I cannot bear to see it 
Mine eyes abhor the sight. In waking 

In sleep it floats before me. Go, I say. 
Bury his lifeless frame ; and say to Thorer 
That 1 command his presence instantly. 
Olaf. Thorer is now asleep. 
Hak. How's this !— Asleep ! 
Olaf. His noon-day dumber.— -In the far- 
thest shades 
He lies, stretch'd out and tranquil. 

Hak. Then awake him.— 
Alter a deed like this to sleep !— Ha ! The- 

I do admire thy courage. Rouse him up. 
Olaf. That may not be till the last trum- 
pet blow- 
Wilt thou not look on Olaf 's head ? 

Hak. I shall not. 
Already have I told thee. 
Olaf. Nay, Lord Jarl, 
Thou think'st to view some grinning spec- 
tre here— 
It is not so— There is no head in Norway 
Looks better than King Olaf s now. 

Hak. Go, slave ! 
Begone, I tell thee. 

Olaf How is this ?— Men say 
Jarl Hakon is a peerless champion ; 
And yet he trembles at a lifeless head ! 
How v/ould'st dura fed, great Jarl, if thou 
should'* view 

£0 Hakon Jarl, a Tragedy; by Adam QekterucKlager. L April 

The head upon the shoulders soil ? < When hostile fate, not o'er myself time, 

Hak. How dar'st thou ? But all Walhalla's deities, impended ? 

Insolent slave ! — Where is it ? Olaf. Poor blind old man ! I have cons- 

ols/. (Throwing eff hit disguise.) passion on thee, 

Here, Lord Jarl— And thy gray hsini 

Forgive me that I thus have brought mine' Hak. Compassion I— Thou proud boy ! 

head ; Thou see'st even here the last 

I found it most convenient embers 

Hak. (Drawing hi* sword.) Ha !— betray- Of the old fire and valour of the North ; 

ed! And think'st thou, that a feeble power Eke 

Olaf. Old man, restrain mine anger— Re- mine, 

collect Nourished by weak and feverish dreams, lint 

My head is on my shoulders. Tie no longer flame 

The headless spectre of thy conscience now Wul e'er extinguish ? Truly, I know well. 
That stands before thee. It is the part of Christians, with compassion 
Hak. (attacking Olaf.) Death and hell t Forsooth, to mend our morals and gam con- 
Olaf. (beating back hi* tword.) No more I verts- 
Have I not wam'd thee ?— Sheath thy sword. While ours is with our whole hearts to de- 

This wood spise you, 

Is all surrounded by my trusty soldiers. And strive for your destruction, as the foes 

My power is greater here than thine— My Of our old northern gods and warlike fame. 

kingdom This was the part of Hakon, and therein 

I shall obtain by victory on the field. Consists his crime. By Odin and by Thar, 

To this (though with malicious intent) Thou shalt not with thy melancholy clouds 

Thou hast thyself invited me. But now Obscure the brave heroic sons of Norway. 

By thine own snares thou art fast bound. Olaf. Well, time will try thy words— 

Thy Thorer Now let us part — 

Is call'd before the Eternal Judge. Thou But wo to thee when we shall meet again ! 

seest Hak. Aye— wo to me, if I shall not 

How easily I might detain thee captive ; overwhelm thee ! 

Thy death were yet more easy ; but a Chris- Olaf. The avenging spear of Heaven shall 

tian pierce thy heart 

Disdains such mean advantage. Therefore Hak. The arm of Thor shall break thy 

choose cross in fragments ! 

Between two lots. Be still what thou hast (Exeunt severally.) 

sTlsBSBSjl • 

As Jarl of HIade swear to me allegiance- Jf*~ ends the third act In the 

Thou wilt not ?— Well then, fly.— When beginning of the fourth, Hakon, now 

next we meet, returned to the main land, is in- 

No more of choice or quarter then— Our formed by a special messenger, that 

strife his eldest and favourite son, Erland, 

Shall be for life and death. has just been killed by Olaf in a 

Hak. I choose the last, skirmish on the sea shore. He adds. 

^fed^ ihat ° laf ' misled b * Ae spfe*" 11 * 

A coward slave in Hakon? Withthesmile *~ <£ S^ii? F^S 2? ?* 

Of scorn I do requite thee. But 'tis true, lt 7™ Hakon whom he had struck-- 

Olaf, thou art an youth. Such arrogance **<* **s m uch disappointed when he 

And rashness are the heralds that announce discovered his mistake. Hakon, in 

Thy lack of years and wisdom. Look at me— the presence of the messenger, pre- 

Look at this forehead, and these eyes ; and serves a proud appearance of indif- 

• «*y» ference, and coldly inquires, whether 

Hast thou in slaves beheld such lineaments? fc e h M ^y more intelligence? On 

Or can'st tho« find that fraud or meanness reflection, however, we shall insert a 

Tii— a~™~ k— ; mm ; n +~i 9 t ~i*i~-A considerable part of the first scene 

These furmws have imprinted ?-I enUced for ^ ^ J^ ^^ fey ^^ 

Tis true.— Why not ?— I knew full well thy ik ** concluded. 

birth Hak. Now— tell me all— where stands 

Was in thine estimation of more worth the insurgent army ? 

Than all the far-fiun'd deeds of Hakon Jarl; Mess. In Orkdale, sire, by Onn of 

And that thou waited'st but for the fit time, Lvreia 

The quiet of mine old age to invade ; Commanded, and by Ekialm and Alf 

And is it strange that such design as this Of RimoL They are there with hearts in- 

I wish'd to cross— or that the vain enthusiast, tent. 

That soorn'd the immortal gods, I should Their sister to avenge. 

ensnare ? Hak. I do confide 

Or wonder'st thou, that to a friend's advice In my tried bands of heroes, who will soon 

For thy destruction, I should lend an ear ; This wild horde put to flight. 


Hakim Jar I, a Tragedy; by Adam OeKUnsehlager. 


Mess. Yet anger, tire, 
H» arm'd them powerfully. 

Hak. With sudden rage— 
A momentary fire that vanish* 
Whene'er the sword of Hakon Jarl ap- 

HvObTs fleet approach'd near to the land? 
Mas. He is in Drontheim's bay already 

Hak. How ? And my son has not there 
made him captive ? 
Xotbarr'd his entrance? Ha! What then 
has happened ? 
Mess. At early morning, Sire, King 
Olaf came,— 
He had five shins, thy son had three, — in 

Fv lea*. A heavy fog reign'd all around : 
Lad Erland deem'd that Olaf 's fleet was 

Hen, on a nearer view, perceived too late 
Hit error, and would have return \1, but 

Wss overtaken by the enemy. 

Hs ship was stranded. Then on deck he 

With all his crew ; but on a sinking wreck 

Taey could not fight; but in the waves 
sought refuge,— 

Diving beneath the flood, they swam to land; 

Yet Ohf never lost sight of thy son ; 

From his bright armour and bis burnish'd 

He deem'd it was thyself, and call'd aloud, 

Hakon! thou shalt not now escape from 

When last we met, I swore our next en- 

Should be the nnfrmr*"g strife of life and 

With these words, suddenly, he seiz'd a pole 

That on the water floated. Oh ! forgive me, 

If I would spare myself the dread recital, 

And thee the knowledge of the rest. 
Hmk. Not so: 

I charge thee, tell the whole; He seized an 

What then? 

Mess. He struck thy son upon the head, 
So that hk brains burst forth into the sea. 
Hak. Hast thou no more to tell ? 
Mess. It vex'd king Olaf— 
When 'twas explained that he who had been 

Was not Jarl Hakon!— Many men were 

Yet some he spared, and learn'd from them 

the news* 
Where stood the insurgent army ; and how 

The people against thee had been incens'd. 
Hek. Hast thou yet more to tell ? 
Mess. My liege, I have not 
He*. Then go! (The Messenger goes 
oat) " It vex'd king Olaf, when 
'twas prov'd 
That he who had been struck was not Jarl 

Hakon r 
Net to! By \±mnm,mB»cwmy could fad 

No other means to wound my heart so 

deeply ! 
Erland thou hast not struck, he feels it not; 
And the sea-goddesses have now received 

Have pressed him lovingly to their white 

RolTd him in their blue mantles, and so 

borne him 
To Odin's realm ! But Hakon thou hast 

Aye, struck him very deeply ! Oh ! dear 

My son, my son ! He was to me most dear; 
The light and hope of my declining age ! 
I saw in him the neir of my renown, 
And Norway's throne ! Has fortune then 

To cast me off at last ? And u Walhalla 
Now veiled in clouds ? Its glories all ob- 
The gods themselves o'erpower'd ? Burns 

Odin's light 
No longer ? Is thy strength exhausted too, 
Great Thor ? The splendour of the immor- 
tal gods 
Declining into twilight ; and already 
Their giant foes triumphant ? Rouse thee, 

Hakon ! 
Men call thee Northern hero. Rouse thy- 
Forgive thy servant, Oh, Almighty Powers ? 
If, worldly-minded, he forgot Walhalla ! 
From this hour onwards all his life and deeds 
To you are consecrated. The bright dream 
That in the sunset placed upon my head 
The golden crown, is fled. The storm on 

Rages, — the dark clouds meet, and rain 

pours down,— 
The sun appears no more ; and when again 
The azure skies are clear 'd, the stars in heaven 
Will glimmer palely on the grave of Hakon ! 
The sea now holds my son ! The little Erl- 

Tis true, remains behind. How can I hope 
That such a tender youngling can resist 
The raging storm's assault! So let me swear 
By all the diamonds in the eternal throne, 
Stars of the night, by you ; and by thy car, 
All powerful Thor, that turns the glittering 

At midnight, toward the south ! Even from 

this hour 
I live no more, but only for Walhalla ! 
My life is wholly to the gods devoted. 
If worldly pride ere-whue my heart deluded, 
Yet may I be forgiven, thou noble Saga, ! 
It was thy sovereign charms that led me on. 
And have my deeds, Almighty Father! 

Thy wrath upon my head ? Well then! de- 
A sacrifice, whate'er thou wilt, it shall 
Be thine! 

At this critical moment a second 
messenger enters, bringing to Hakon 
a magnificent goldfin horn, *\u,cb\uaa 

B* Hakon Jarl, « Tragedy; h> Adam QMnucNafrr. £±P*& 

w been dfssawened by the soldiers or at once broken, and the feint s *eeolu~ 

priests of Qlaf in digging the fbunda- tion and tranquility restored. 

iron for a Christian church. This The scene then changes to die sa- 

horn, which, as it appears, had been credgrove, inhabited by tfostataes at 

formerly used by the priests of Odin, the Norwegian Deities. The whole 

in their solemn sacrifices, was imme- dialogue breaths the bloody coMimb* 

diately seised by the adherents of of the Scandinavian creed. 

Hakon, who receives it with that su- Hakon eaten, leading hh tea atritag hy 

nwrstitiou* reverence with which a flsefowrf. 

wicked mind, conscious of extreme Brl T*is cold, mr father! 

danc-er, grasp* at «very new and «*■ #«*• 'Twyet ea^mcraing. 

tenSl event. Unluckily he discovers, ^*™^£±Z- 

engraven on the gold, an ancient in- x^^SS^Sli 

8cription,wWchseems^lytopoint i^SKLwlrtaiaw 

out to liim that the gods, m order to ^ g^ ^ yon ^^y 

effect a reconciliation, desire from him j™ the east ? 

the sacrifice of his remaining son ! Erl What roses! hew they bloom and 

We regret not having room for the spread on high ! 

soliloquy, in which he gradually works Yet lather, tefl me whence come all these 

to his mind to this horrible deed; pawls, 

wU however, is perfecfly consist- ™^t?^t£*L^l^ 

mythology, and the system of worship m0 rning dew ! 

by which it was distinguished. At xnt^hatwhkh thou deem'etfotwktbe sun! 

the conclusion of the scene, Hakon fee'st thou? He rises now ! Look at him 

vividly imagines that he beholds the boy ! a 

-grim goddess, Thobgu&dub Ho boa- BrL Oh what a beauteous whirling gobe 

bbud, (who accompanies the warrior he seems! 

in battle, mounted Wa white horse, How fiery red! Dear fifth*, cat, ivt never 

in uwn.*^, «.„#!. nwr W fthnnl. Visit the sun in yonder distant land ? 

with a^ bloody mantle over her snoul- * wh(fle Ufe ^ 

; .never known before* 


he endeavours to grasp, and walks out Hisemer «theinoon,of ixuKLer light, 

with extended arms, following his That he just now has left in Miner's tcu, 

Irightfiil conductress. We know not There by the ehaimml waves to be refreshed, 

a finer subject for -graphse illustration. BrL And where is Mimofs well ? 

In the next scene, which is bofli Bak. The sacred lacesa-- 

ipetwrtural in- ©own there, mat foaming beats upon the 

the « dark knight of the forest, as .^ 9tKDg ^ m * B o^fi eytaTFrom the 

he appeared in the manuscript copies cool waves, 

of Mr Maturin's " Bertram. ' Olaf, At morning duly comes the son refreshed, 

when walking alone in the forest, ismet The moon again by sight. 

by a one-eyed oldman,byneme Auden, BrL But now It hurts me— 

who endeavours, not without some do- it mounts too r^h— 

cree of success, to persuade the king Bak. Vpon Ins goMen mime, 

§£ t endeaVour.TCblish tEe <*b»£^^ 

Christian religion fai .Norway are ill- "£^2 m at* earthly^^ 

founded, impracticable, and unwor- MByno tosniBmiaaia-A<fnatiiian dots to 

thy of being attended with any ' mtci 

Mod result. This one-eyed Auden The unveil'd aspect of the king of day? 

(as the reader will no doubt con- ErL {terrified) Hu ! hu ! my father— 

lecture) Tirovea to be the great la the forest yonder-- 

Odin himself, an evil spirit who thus What are those bearded frightful men ? 

appears, in orde, 'jT*g~W rEttSLl+ml+bfwm 
mente, to perplex and ^weaken J^™nd ^ Thejbbk* not with 
of his opponent, and, if possible, to .on-gleams ! 
preserve his influence as heretofore ^eibrc them we can |i»y wimeonfideiice, 
over the Norwegian people. On the ^ j^ upan them with untroubled firm- 
entrance of Taugbrand, however, Olaf s ness. 
father-confessor, all the snares that Come child— let us go nearer f 
had been laid by 1he wicked spirit are B¥L tfo-royismw ! 

imj BahM Jcri, a Trig*}?; by Adam Oikhmkkj^^ 

latafiaol Bwitbw ahsJoMsaanthsat » HearVt thou not HeftndaTs caekf~*H« 

ffinwah the bond? Iamafaadof him ! crows and cbowSp 

flat, Child, it is Odta—Woahr* fhou Now it it time ! [Exeunt behind At statues. 

fly Ami 0*Ja ? The nriamble and deepairinf ty* 

JrL lfe—Jia I £■*■* tfacgM*iing rant now fhlfils the sacrifice of his son 

B . * ll ? ,fi ? r ..- . . « behind the scenes, on event which, 

Irimsehr served, with the worship of Odin, 

apellate a flower 0Db%h--But that pel* would, of course, not be tolerated, 

lorcerer, " ™™ a^y inodificatione, on our statin. 

Ht trine Hha aa seaaaen i Immediately after the deed, Einar, the 

flat. Ha! skilftd archer (who, in a former etene, 

Ert. Fata«r ? at hast , proved his extraordinary powers by 

!*■* »*et awstg •■7 crown of flowers, I shooting an arrow through the phone* 
left * .- . -^ AV-k on Hakon's helmet), enters to call his 

Z&JAo£* m *«« t0 the field where he had m- 

Tb«S^2nrise- Thenletaagebome; tended to suimort him. On discover- 

ssewe ate that eUmanmeaao thee no good! in £ tDe noma crime, however, that 

Met. flo bring thy wmtrtir. and quire bas just been committed, he leaves 

ly osme aaais. {Exit Brmng*) him lor ever, with vehement exeero* 

A bash sor eeenfice is ever erawnVL tiona, and departs to join the forcea of 

Ismortal Powers ! behold from Heaven the Olaf. The trumpets sound loudly at 

fr**h ^^ a distance, and Hakon rushes to die 

*2T^ m "rTlJL Ag**- Twm terminates the fourth 

an* Hen em l, attner, a ^^ 

^^Yetee»!^i^ my child The Uttle S^ ■ff 1 "^ Ae M" 4 " 

i- Tjppu besoea great Odau Stretch thy stained Hakon ; but he acquits fcira- 

beade, self with hia usual bravery, and slays, 

Both op to Heaven, and say, «* Almighty among many more, the two brothers 

Bather, of hia deserted mistreat Then, wist* 

Haw. B ttk Erf in g—Ai thy child receive him, to revenge their sister's wrongly had 

Te thy laamisl besom ! joined, among the first of the Norwe- 

EH. (Ba kneels* stretching his arms out gians, the standard of King Oh£ 

aware* cfte ewa, and says, with childish Left alone, in the darkness or iright, 

■ei ciM mad trmnqmUUty). upon the field of lost battle, Hakon 

■ Oh facet Coin* knows not whither to fly for refuge-* 1 

Hear fak BiBngf As thy child receive him ^d at last relying on the potenoy avea 

It thy paternal bosom r f injured and despised love, he re- 

(ffehea, mka stands behind, drawn hi* dag- solves to commit hinteeif to the lady 

far, ami i ntend * * stab him, but it amps Thora— the mother of the child whom 

eat e/ate hand. EHing turn* out quiet- he had Bacrificed to Odm. The fifth 
Je, flsfcat a? tea, and sans an ha rimy act opens with a view of Thorn's man- 

5 -t i*^" - A . , „_. . ft ^ , sion — where, attended by a single 

te f ! ^ »*"**«* slave, the solitary woJn aite in 

Whea Iibow taller, I wiU have one too, Borrow, waiting to hear the issue of 

Thee la defeat satirist thine enemies ! the battle. This act is throughout so 

JUL Ha! what enchanter with such fine, that we shall extract almost the 

waais state* thee, whole of it. 
To awic Ay father's heart ? ACT V. 

BH. Hart this say frther? iumol* 

YeaeresBtaeajryeuze S— Whathave I done ? NlghL—Thora and Inger sitting at a table 

Hah. Come, Eihag I fcUow me behind with**** The lights aw aaarfe Unmt 

I out, 

BHL BrTaai that ftiahtml man? chaol The. Sleep, Inger, weighs upon thee hea- 

Hsk. (foofafcty.) Yet listen !— vUy. 

laas aaa fine mats aioeaimg th er e - n ot lag. Mainight has psated loag siaee. But 

while--- hften, now, 

hat ted and purple roeei Tie a pleasure They come. There is a knockiag at the 

To sas them sliaonagfi»th---^Conie then, my 

child ! The No — ?twas the tempest Through 

BrL Dear father, slay : I am so much the livelong night, 

It beats and howls, aa if it would tear up 

Idanotlsfvndssses. The beast from its foundation. 

Bnk. Come, I say f Jug. In such weather 

Vol. VII. L 

8ft Hakm Jarl, aTragtdy; by Adam OthUrucklager. [[April 

Yourbrothen, noble btdy, wiH not come, And to their meeting drain the gotdes* 
But waft tffl it u daylight. hnnU 

Tho. Well then, child, Tho. Oh Freya !— 

Go thou to bed. Sleep flies 6om me. This £*•. Nobk lady , at their fate 

morning Thoushouldst rejoice. To few, aba! is given 

The battle must have been ;— and Ekialm A death so glorious. Ever in the Tan 

And Alf have promised me to come with They shone distinguished— Tftcrs it was I 

tid ing s. found mem !— 

Go thou to bed; and I shall watch alone. Jarl Hakon, like a wild bear of the forest, 

Itig. If you permit me. But again I hear Raged in the battle; and the striae was 
That sound. Methinks it cannot be the harcL— 

storm. {Exit) Together whole battalion* intermixed ;— 

Tho. How sad am I ! How sorely is my Half Norway fought for Hakon ;and die rest 

heart Aninstt^^onthesaleofoiiraJngOlafl 

Oppress'd !— my brothers against Hakon Thy brothers strove with vehemence thee to 

Jarl !— avenge 

Whoever wins, poor Thora must be lost!— By the life blood of Hakon. Yet behold! 

{An archer comet.) Both fell beneath his sword— His arm, 
Bin. God save thee, noble Thorn ! and indeed, 

good morning ! Is powerful, when 'tis energised by wrath* 

For, iff err not, itS mom already ;— What more? they found a noble conotieror. 

The cock crows loudly in the court without x Whate'er men say, J arl is a peerless hero ; 

Tidings I bring for thee. My name is This on the field to day was amply proved. 

Einar, Tho. Alas 1 my brothers !— . 

Binar the bowman !— Pear not, tho' I were Bm. Nay, I envy them ! 

Brewbilethetoendcf Hake©;— far since he Of Odm's realm they are the denixeuv— 

Offered his own child for a sacrifice, And wear their swords amid immortal 
To gain the victory, I have been to him heroes. 

A fbe relentless. Ere morning will their monument be raised 

Tfa Oh manorial powers!— To brave the wreck of time. Ingratitude. 

Bin. Just cause, indeed, hast thou for thy There will King Olaf place the eternal 

dislike, wreathe 

And ho deserves abhorrence even from all, Of maarv stone*— «« Salute our sister 
But most from thee. But to the point. For Thorn!"— 

imv— These were the last words on their fine*— I 
I am kins (NaTs liegeman. I have known piomised — 

Thy bickers but for a short space; vet soon That promise I have thus fulfilled ;— and 
Firm friends had we become. Vicissitudes now, 

Of war cement in one brief hour a bond 1 ride about with a strong band of honemca 

That years of peaceful Kfe could not unite. In search of Hakon. Olaf too is with us. 

They fought like Normans,— Well— so did We meet again at Gauh ; for to day 

we all ;— The Congress is— but where it holds I know 
And Olaf conquered. Likethe wastesea foam, not 

Tho worn-out troops of Hakon were dis- Soon, as we hope, our prey shafl be se- 

persetL— • * cured, 

the battle i 

Hotly the battle raged beneath the clash And aH thy wrongs be rearfuJly avenged^— 

Of blood-stam'd shields ; and every sword Now may the Gods be with thee ; and fare- 
end spear WeH ! 

With gore was reeking. The war goddesses Tho. Ye sacred powers ! how have I then 
Descended on the field. They would have deserved 

A fate so cruel? What have been my 

And had their fUL— More freely pours not 

forth That my poor heart should thus be rent 

the foaming nectar in Walhalla !— asunder?— 

Thousands were slain ; but Hakon and his {Enter a stranger— muffled a* a cloak.) 
squire Whence comes tins unknown guest?— Statu 

Escap'd our swords. We now pursue their ger! who art thou?— 

flight !— Stran. Are we alone and in security ? 

Tho. {muiousto) But my dear brothers— Tho. How ! Speak'st thou of security— 

Einar— what of them ?— even now, 

Thou com'et a strange r ■ late at night— I When thou myself my solitude hast broken, 

tremble— And on my grief intruded ?— Say, what 

My brothers— ten me !— art thou ? 

Bin. They have sent me hither— Stran. {Throwing off hit disguise.) 

They could not come themselves. But no- stnow'st thou me now ? 

ble Thora, Tho. O heavenly powers ! Jarl Hakon ! 

Rejoice— for Ekialm and Alf have now Hak. Even he himself, 

ide with the sun-rise to WalhaUa's Tho. And hast thou fled to me ? 

Uak. By att WalhakVs gods— Thou 
ith Odin there they sit amid the heroes, sfaoukTst not wonder !— • 

im] Haktm Jarl, a Tragedy; by Adam Oehktuchlager. SS 

W3 i»t the nehie pax that aH fey long Hak. Know'st duo 

He) been pursued, at last for refuge fly That I with this hand sacrificed the boy, 

To haunts the most unmeet or unexpected? The favourite little one, to thee so dear? 

Tho. JarL, thou art pale, thy looks are Tho. Thou to the gods hast offered him : 

desolate ! I know it : 

Hah Heaven knows, I have contended A deed that proves the miserable strife, 

Eke a wolf The oppression of thy heart. 

Thst would protect her young. With this Hak. But know'st thou too, 

good sword That I, with this hand which thou kindly 

Ssskhave I scat enough this day to Lok graspest, 

Or Odin. Now am I sore spent My troops And— no— I cannot say the rest ! 

An sicken Fortune has prov'd treacher- Tho. I know 

eat, That thou hast kill'd my brothers in the bat- 

Ani Oaf with his Christian charms has tie. 

blunted Hak. Indeed ; and still— ? 

Tkswcrds of Northern heroes. Many fled— Tho. Thora is still the same. 

Oners more base endeaTOur'd to betray me ; Oh Hakon ! thou hast acted crueDy ; 

No man is left in whom I may confide— With scorn repaid my love, and kilTd my 

Ob say devoted head the hand of Rota, brothers ; 

Ihodkloving goddess, icy-cold was laid, Yet in the battle it goes ever thus, 

Aid heavily. In silence with one slave Life against life ; and they, as Einar said, 

flue I rode through the night. By fiery Are in Walhalla blest 

thirst. Ah ! tell me, Hakon, 

Long have I been tormented. In that cup Is this no vision ? Art thou here indeed, 

b there cold water ? In Thorn's humble cottage, tar remote 

7fc* Wait, and I wul bring you— From thy proud palace 'mid the forest wild. 

Ilafc. (Air drinks,) No, stay. How much Surrounded by the fearful gloom of night ? 
this draught renesh'd me ! Say, is the pale and silent form that now 

At GeaJa fall my horse; I kUl'd him there; Leans on his sword, ao worn and spiritless, 
Tfaew osTmy war cloak ■ drench'd it in his No longer with imperial robes adotn'd, 

w Thyself indeed ? 

And left k to deceive mine wiwnifs. Hak. The shadow which thou i 

7*0. Oh Hakon ! Was once indeed the monarch of all Nor- 

Hak. As I passed thy dwelling by, way. 

And awed before the dark and silent gate, And heroes did him homage and obeisance; 

wVnoa die storm was breaking, a deep He fell in one day's battle— 'twas at Hlade. 

thought Ha ! that is long past now ■■almost forgot 

Awake within me, that here yet one soul His pallid spectre wanders up and down, 

Sorriv*d, of whom I was not quite an out- To scare beholders in the gloom of night 

cast. His name was Hakon ! 
And who the gate to me would open gladly. Tho. I indeed am now 

I calTdtomiad how often thouhad'st sworn Reveng'd, and fearfully! Away with ha- 
Tfcat I was dear to thee— Yet well I knew tred. 

That love can turn to hatred. • Be it so ! Henceforth, and enmity— Come love again; 

Here am I, Thora ! wilt thou now conceal I were indeed a she-wolf, and no woman, 

If in my bosom hatred not expired 

From (Haf and his horsemen ? For thy love At such a look as thine is now !— Come, 

Tim am I grateful— love that heret o f o re then, 

1 have not only prix'd. If thou art doubt- Lean on thy Thora ; let me dry thy temples, 

ful, That fire again may light thy faded eyes. 

I cannot supplicate. Then shall I oo Hak. (rHldiy.) What is thy name, thou 

Once more amid the desolate night, and gentle maid of Norway ? 

dank Tho. The maidens here have called me 

The Ugliest cliff— look for the last time Violet 

round Methinks, indeed, I was a little flower, 

Even on that realm that honoured and obey- Grownup within the shelter of mine oak, 

ed me ; And there alone was nourishM fruit fore 

Then, with the tranquil heart of stern re- now 

solve Must wither, since no longer 'tis allowed. 

Rush on this tried and faithful sword. The As wont, within that honour'd shade to 


Wffl on its wild wings quickly bear my soul Hak. Violet ! a pretty name. 
Onto the Father of all victories ; Tho. How's this, oh Heaven ! 

And when the sun reveals my lifeless frame, A fever shakes thee in mine arms. This 
hahaUbe said, " As be ham lived exalted, mood 

So dai he nobly die r Is new, indeed, and frightfuL When, till 

The. No more of this ! now, 

Oh Hakon, sneak not so. My hatred now Have I beheld tears on thy cheeks ? 
!• past and gone. Gladly shall I afford Hak. How, Violet, 

h ttfaat tm dp monavu* fa* Thou pale blue flowrat on the bsatfs grave* 

it Hakom Jdti, a Tragedy; by Adam Oek hm * : k fagn \ 

And woodcr'st thou i£ IMwf Ere (teaadr^^.Mlfcrtfgft**** 

Wfc then not, nil me 
hard toda eppear to 

Hart Aon not 


bu/i i 

When siioflWy, from free am geold to wmnnth Till we have Hakim prisoner *— Hie army 

Tammmtei? tt m ettrfdaiu me token, la bat ttiijwrssfl ' nut wholly owww. 

Then wonder hx, pale, tramblmg flower t Young Finer drum fhsl we 01101111111111111111 ^ 

2*o.OhJavU' BmhehMleeiefwMn^mCbine/«l«r- 

MycamimyHakanl Help ma, Ueavon I If Hakon gains but time ha wOl be eei 

flo*. The snow Tb*st»*e* wffl seek rs-tuuonv/im the 

Ftflm mi fi ■mnimini [ nrnr iti Trip k Iv#eu]dnmwasmmesudwuhi 

o'er ; But with 1 _ 

ThepoweaM wmin maho away, and yisMs Hakon rmistfiul; for v/rrilethls" 

Before the charmful breath of flowaryspring. The mm of Cmietisnify hi Norway 
Jari Hakon to naaao r a.i. ht ighDatalano 
gtffl wandera am the earth. Yet boldly go, 
And thm* hk body dam a wooden apear 
Deup in tha mtm bmmth Than shall, at £amr. Omf! Thy toils ere oVr. 

last, Beside a mmawarn stream Jar! Hahonlrataed 

HhimmmumisnemMmidrapem, Lay bathed in gore^-and there I found fab 

Will nerer bloom. 

{Minor tke lm mm i t n t rn t with JNmsV wmr 

eessfate specsraiinci reuesa* 
ffm* My Hakon, he composed; apeak 

not so wildly*. 
Um Intfrat spirit, howsoe'er endow'd, 
Most yfaad ai last to fortune. Thy peond 

Has lame with hate and enmity 

apon the boaorn of thy love* 

~ tins house a vault 


And kffi'd him there. 

Okf. Indeed? Can this be so? 
Is this his dreaj ? Who recognises k ? 
Grefll The ores in truth is there,-*!** 
Lay he there too ? 

JNner. His hone and cloak alone 
Have 1 venem. 

Greif. Bring also the Jad, and then 
We may repose; bmrjot before. Methought 
Thou knew'st him better. He/if I mistake 

By this dme has swiimiid another dress— 
Beymrith* dusky vault the day will dawn? Let net this trick mislead yen. Sire. It suits 
Th*> My ktd, 1 doubt it not. The crafty Jarl— He has contrived it all, 

JSefc. And to tha vault, But to deceive us. 

Htstov, obeoure, unknown, deep in the Otaf. Forward uta, niy friends;.— 

Deep In me mock is broad and widely beam, 
That no one knows but I alone, and mere 
Will I mnecal mm till tha danger's past — 
may a better fortune smile on us ! 
Hak. Say to me truly, Think 1 * thou that 


and danger) 

And we may gain some tidings of the foe. 
Greif. A y s th ere lives Thora, his devot- 

ed mistress. 
Einor. Nay, that is pmV-Jari has de- 
serted her, 
And slain her brothers. 

Greif. Well, but it is said 
True love may never be outworn and we 

earth. We are near RimoL There* held the eon- 

(That barrier 'j 
TO that dark 
WHt thou conduct me? 
Tho> Aft* my best fccmv'd. 
Hnk+Comt, then, 
My bride in death. Ill fcttsw thee, my 

Lead on, I tremble not 
. ante. Oh heaxnsnly powers! 

JanV. fhmkm thou thy looks can e'er Must try all chances. 

my heart? Oajfi, Come, to horse! The day 

art pale, thy tips am blue— nay, Is dawning brightly. 


Thou kilPst not quickly with the glittering (The Jar* earriet a burning hmp. And a 

apear, plate with food. Hakon hag a near in Itit 

IjKlhywMsmmaHildursjidOeirslMa^d, hand.) 

amtamwiy rniimWst first with ice-cold an. Kar/c In this cavern then 

mush Arc we to live? Here is not much prepared 

(lfoeJndenemftmelmnrtiiirmmBlfa^ For life's convenience. Where shall I set 

Yes *ueaB ana at last. Came meat In etc, down 

Of valorous pride thou hast not yet o'ercome Our lamp ? 

Tteimgering names. I fonowthee, with steps Hak. There ;— hang it on that hook. 

Firm and ramtmd, into the grave. Kark. At last, 

Tha. Ya Gods This much is gainVL And here too there 

Of mildness and of mercy look upon him ! 

Woody country at Gamma. 
Okf r Carmft***, Jo**, Greif t SdWkw. 
Orttf. It dawns, my liege. Methmkithe 
Cam vast pmvo 

Mxeunt. Hewn in the rock, whereon one may repose. 

My lord, will you not now take some refresh- 
whole long day you have been without 

llftj Madam «JeH« Tragedy; by Adam Oeklentcklager. 67 

aUk> I an not hsmgry, boy— but thou Kark. How! Was Sigurd Jarl 

may'steat. Your father, SireP In truth, I knew not this; 

f^Wsmye*jrpeim*sdon,thsn,Ishall. Hit fate at last was mournftU. 

fib sab. Hakon walk* up and imtn, tak- Hak. Silence ! 

mgiomg steps.) Kark. Hero, 

farfc. My Lord— Hu ! (looting round) One finda not even a Mult straw to teat on. 

Tie m sooth a frightful place 1 Hak. If thou ait weary, on the naked 

Its'* them tfn* black and hideous coffin earth 

these, Can'st thou not rest, as I hare often done ? 

Chat to the door aa we ttapt in ? Kark. Since H must be so,— I shall try. 

Hak. Be silent— Hak. Enough. 

Asd cat, I tell thee. (Aside.)— In this Sleep,— sleep t 

dark «bode, {Karker stretches himself on the ground, and 

Hat Thorn spent full many a sleepless night, jhUt asleep.) 

Ues*>aadw«esang. Then, in her affliction, Hak. (Looking at Mm.) Poor nature!— 

lh*eas1maheB«»sscrstly «mded, shrmber'st thou already P 

lien for herself ; and here mat adrest form The spark which restlessly betokened life 

9m day •waits snrtuption 1 Already sunk in ashes ! But 'tis well— 

{He looks at Karker.) 'Tis well for thee :— Within this heart what 

Wluremra, Boy, flames 

Wit thou not eat ! With eager haste, till Violently rage !— Ha ! stupid slave ! hast 

now. thou, 

Did" at thou devour thy food. What has thus Commanded by the Normans, unto me 

changed thee ? My father's death-song as a warning sung ? 

Kark. Mt Lord, I am not hungry, and Shall Hakon's fate be like die rate of Li- 

nwsjitnk* gurd? 

TWa feed tastes not invitingly. He was, as I have been, unto the Gods 

.Hak. How so t A priest of bloody sacrifice. But how ! 

leaf flood courage. Trust in me, thy master. Can the wise God of Christians have o'er- 

Kark. Lord Jarl, thou art myself op- come 

praas'd and sad. Odin and all his powers ? And must he 

Hak. ** Oppressed and sad ! w How dar'st fall 

thou, Slave, jaesume ? Who has of Christians been the enemy ? 

I aw, be marry. If thou can*st not eat, (He pauses. J 

dng- I wish to hear a song. Tis cold within this damp and dusky cave— 

ri/Whieh, * 

, My blood is freezing in my veins. 
fcr t (He looks at Karker. ) 

Bnk.~8mg what thou wik. However, He dreams. 

Latfcbn of ndasp and hollow tone, How hatefully his features are contorted ! 

Even ike the music of a wintry storm ! Hegrins like some fantastic nightly spectre! 

A ltflnsif— any child, a hillaby ! Shaking hhu. ) 

Kark. A lullaby! Ho! Karker! Slave, awake! What mean 

Hak. Art, that the grown-up child those faces ? 

May quietly by night repose. Karker. Ah ! 'twas a dream. 

Kark. My Lord, Hakon. And what then has thoudreamM? 

I know a famous war-song— an old legend. Karker. Methought I saw— 

Hak. Has it * aaournrul ending ? Seems Hakon. Be silent. Hear'st thou not ? 

H first, What is that noise above ? 

As If all things want prosperously on, Karker. Horsemen— my Lord— 

Than winds up suddenly with death and A numerous troop. I hear their armour 

murder ? clashing. 

Kark. No, Siiev The song is sad from They are, as I suspect, King OlaTs people, 

the beginning. Who search for us. 

Hak. Waif that I moat approve*— For Hakon. This cave is all unknown. 

«*• umimto Its iron gates are strong. I have the key. 

A sang with calmness and serenity. Here are we safe. 

Only t» end with more impressive horror— Karker. But hear'st thou what the He- 

This is a trick that poets too much use, — raid 

Let clouds obscure the morning sky— and Is now proclaiming ? 

then Hakon. No. What were the words ? 

We know the worst ! Begin the song. Karker. King Olaf will, with riches and 

Isrfc M King Harsld and Erling they sailed with honour 

by night ; Reward the man who brings to him the 

(And Wythe is die greenwood strain,) head 

they came to Oglehof, Of Hakon, Jarl of Hlade. 

The doughty Jarl was shun !" Hak. (Looking at him scrutinhingly. ) 

Hak. How, slave !— Feel'st thou not 

Halt last thy reason? Wilt thou sing to mc Desire to win this wealth— why art thou 

My fetor's death-song ? trembling? 


Hakon Jarl, a Tragedy; by Adam Oehlenscklager. 


Why art thy lips turn'd pale ? 

Kark. The visum tear d me.— 
Perchance, my lord, you could explain it 
for me* 
Hak. What hast thou dream'd ? 
Kark, That we were both at sea. 
In one small vessel, 'mid the stormy waves ; 
I had the helm. 

Hak. That must betoken, Karker, 
That my fife finally depends on thee. 
Therefore be faithful. In the hour of need, 
Stand by thy mattes firmly ; and one day. 
He shall reward thee better than King Olaf. 
Kark. My lord — I dream'd yet more. 
Hak. Boy— tell me all ! 
Kark. That came a tall black man 
down to the shore, 
Who from the rocks proclaimed with fear- 
ful voice 
That every harbour was barr'd up against us. 
Hak. Karker, thou dream*st not well ; 
for this betokens 
Short life even for us both. Be faithful 

As thou thyself hast told me, we were born 
On the same night ; and therefore in one 

We both shall die. 

Kark. And then, metbought, once more, 
I was at Hlade ; and King Olaf there 
Fixed round my neck a ring of gold. 

Hak. Ha ! this 
Betokens that King Olaf round thy neck 
A halter will entwine, when treacherously, 
Thou hast betray'd thy matter.— But no 

Place thyself in that corner. I will here 
Recline, and 90 we both will go to sleep. 
Kark. Kven at thou wilt my lord. 
Hak. What would'st thou do ? 
Kark. Twas but to trim the lamp. 
Hak. Go take thy place ; 
And leave the lamp. Thou might'st ex- 
tinguish it- 
Then should wc sit in darkness. It it more 
Than I can well explain, how every night 
Those who retire to sleep put out the light ! 
Of death it it methinkt a fearful emblem. 
More threatening far than slumber.— What 

In life so strong and vivid at a light ? 
Where it the light when once it it extin- 
Let my lamp stand. It bums but feebly 

Yet still it burns — and where there's life is 

hope ! 
Go take thy place and sleep. 
(He waOu unquktly up and down, and then 

Now, Karker, sleep's* thou ?— 
Kark. Aye— my good lord. 
Hak. Ha stupid slave I— (ruing up.) 
Jarl Hakon ! 
Is this wretch then the last that now remain* 
Of all thy mighty force?— I cannot trust 

For what can such a dull and clouded brain 
Conceive of honour and fidelity ? 

Like a chahVd dog, fawning he will tame 

To htm who offers the moat tempting met- 

Karker— give me thy dagger. Slaves, thto 

Should wear no weapons. 

Kark. From yourself my lord 
It was a gift; and here it it again. 

Hak. *Tit well. Now sleep. 

Kark. Immediately. 

Hak. (Aside.) A fcver 
Burnt in my brain and Mood. I ean 

Exhausted with the combat of the day. 
With watching; and our long 

Yet sleep I dare not— while thai 

slave— (He pauses.) 

Well— I may rest awhile— yet carefully 
Beware of sleep.— 

(He sits down, and is o verp owe r ed ejr 

Kark. (Softly.) Ha ! now—he sleepa I— 
He trusts me not— he fears 
That I may now betray him to King 01a£— 
Olaf gives wealth and honours for hts fife— 
What can I more expect from Hakon Jarl? 
He moves ! Protect me, Heaven ! He lists 

And yet it not awake*— • 

Hak. (Rising up in kis sleep, and 
coming forward towards Karker— ae if he 
fled from tome fearful apparition.) 

What would'st thou with me ? Go ! leave 
me in peace ! 

Wherefore dost thou intrude thy death-pelt 

Between those broken rocks? H abated! 

I was to thee no traitor. How, now, chil- 
dren ! 

What would you here? Go home! go hone! 
for now 

There it no time for dalliance. Then your 
bridegooom ! 

And Odin's marble statue— it hat fallen ! 

And Freya stands with flowers upon her 

(Listening.) Who weeps there *mid the 

Ha! that it worst. 

Poor child ! poor little Erling ! dost thou 

And have I struck too deeply ? Mid the 

Till now snow white, are purple drops de- 

(Calling aloud.) Ha! Karker! Karker! 
Kark. Still he dreams. My lord, 

Here is your faithful slave. 

Hak. Hold! take that spear- 
Strike it at once into my heart. Tit done ! 

There ! strike ! 
Kark. My lord, can'st thou indeed desire 

That I should such a deed fulfil ? 
Hak. No more! 

1390.3 Mahm Jari, a Tragedy; by Adam Oehleiuchlagtr. $» 

{Tbrafrmimg.) Thou wretch, strike instant- From Thorn's hand receive this coronet 

Mo-i^££U„** ««*-.|hM--w W . l . afc ,|i 

w^ K ^l ?*** * en ' Around thy batde sword, and so betoken 

flWR. (Falling.) Now in my heart the A noble forest tree, though by the storm 

™**m spear Of winter wild o'erpower'd at last Old 
i deeply fixed. Thy threatening legends, 

^^ wards, In distant ages, when the colours quite 

°^7_*f* 5?* «™ nMd - Have from the picture faded, and no more 

Kark. Nowttispatti But the dark outline is beheld, will say, 

And cannot be recalled. Therefore shall I « He was a wicked servant nf «h« «*i;» 

Ana cannot De recalled. Tncrefore shall I « He was a wicked servant of the gods"— 

J»o tone devote to lamentation here. Thy name will be a terror to the people— 

Ieoqld not weep him back to life again. JvTrfjoitistomelforOI knew thee ! 

These iron doors now must I open wide, In thee the noblest gifts and greatest heart 

And bang this dead Jari to the k in g -t h e n Were in the tumult of wild times perverted. 

m^ e X m ^ ^ ^ *• then » AwwrnD * giw* Hakon Jari ! thy 

Tne wealth and honour that to me are pro- soul 

~ . ■"■?** ... m Is now rejoiemgm the halls of Odin. 

™«*1 but he himself desired hie death, Now must I leave thee here in solitude ; 

IWmo^bmtpericTm'dwhatheamimanded! And when these gates are opened next, the 
{Exit, hearing out the body of Hakon Jari) tUves 

Having already transcribed so large- Of Thorn shall her lifeless frame deposite 

ry, we now omit one scene, which con- Beside the loved remains of her dear friend, 
tains the congress at Drontheim,— the 

coronation of King Olaf, (on whose Such is the noble termination of the 

head the crown, made unsuccessfully tode of Hakon Jari. The merits of the 

for Hakon, exactly fits,) and the man- tragedy — more particularly of this last 

date for the execution of the trencher- &<*, cannot require any comment from 

cms Barker. We shall insert, how- vaL The highest and most acceptable 

ever, the conclnding soliloquy of Than, compliment that could have been paid 

to whose care the remains of Hakon toOehlenschlager, has been already 

nave been consigned by command of °h%red in the diligence of a translator 

Olaf, now king of Norway . worthy of himself. There are some 

The Cavern. leaders who may perhaps be surpris- 

TU bmp rill bum*. Servants bring in a <^ *bat one who writes like Mr Gil- 

ofh, set k tUently l« the cave, and hes— (for it must be seen that we are 

retire Thorn comet damly with a drown 8 £ am indebted to this gentleman's 

mrd, and a large pine tret garland in MS8.,)—eh<mld deal so largely in 

far handt. She remain* long duply translation. But assuredly, he is the 

■esStatiVs, and contemplate* the coffin, best judge, by what exercises he is 

Tho. Now art thou in thy coffin laid, most likely to train his own fine ge- 

i. iwi? 1 ^^ 1 xmtu t ^ v * nius for the original flights, that, with- 
coffin. Who could have tore- out doubt, await its maturity. If he 

M^tb^^iLtinpeace! Ifthouha* d «^ J^. ^ereiifter a writer of En- 
enflL ^^^^ "raounast gllsn mgpfa^ we are at a loss to 

By nflenngs thou has amply ™-4t atone- gue8S D 7 wn at species of preparation he 
ment; might be more effectually strengthen- 
And no one now to thee, laid in the grave, m g his powers, and smoothing his ad- 
One insolent word may speak of blame or venturous path. Besides, it should 
scorn ! not be forgotten, that the great Goethe' 
Asm thy fife. so even in death I love thee! himself, has though the whole of his 

Taw* y<M * ^ ** NorWay Me *&8 hted m & e work of transla- 

K*n A sun new life through aU d* ** rf^Zl^Ztr. ^ "" 
ihAi g • ness of years and honours, the gene- 

Kov have my banda of warriors all forgot rous old master bas not disdained to 

thee, finish a German version of Lord By- 

And swam allegiance to a foreign power ! ron's Manfred. The day may perhaps 

(fee feeble woman only now is left come, when German and Danish poets 

Tomeum and weep for thee. So let her may be proud to repay in kind, the 

*, °f^ . , services which Mr Gillies is now rcn- 

jSSS Pay * V ° "** derin 8 to the genius of the Norm. 

90 The Warder. No VII. [A|rf 

No VII. 



» ointment and pfrfumk rejoice the heart i so doth the sweetness or a max? rum 


For gereral months past, our opinion nists. It is by such unfair 

of the deeply and seriously alarming that they have now and then disgraced 

condition of many important districts their cause, even when they <*y» tff l 

of our country, has been laid openly to be in the right— it is by the ssJnc 

and honestly before our readers. At want of candour, and by the same mv 

the time when we first expressed that worthy courting of the prejudices of 

opinion, we are aware that not a few, the ignorant, that they have far more 

whose character and judgment might frequently, though perhaps more efc> 

have entitled them to very consider- cusably, aggravated their offences 

able respect, were inclined to accuse when they were, and when, as on tmt 

us of entertaining needless fears, and last occasion we are well ptrsim i l e d 

of greatly exaggerating, at the least, they felt themselves to be, in the 1 

the extent both of the popular delu- wrong. 

sion and the general aanger. The Now, however— we mean wititb 

noisy leaders of the lower Whig party the last week or two—the talk of the 

in Parliament threw every possible Whigs has undoubtedly made one of 

difficulty in the way of the Administra- the most sudden and remarkable tnrm 

tion, when they called for the autho- we ever remember to have heard of iff 

rity of the senate to enact laws of tern- all the history of their talking sect, 

porary coercion ; and out of Parlia- They are at lost convinced— -a thou* 

liament, these laws, after they had sand thanks to them for the generous 

been enacted, were branded on every admission — they are satisfied at last 

occasion by the adherents of the same that there are such men as lUdBcaJi 

party, as so many uncalled for and pe- and Rebels in the land ; and by what 

rflous attacks on the liberties and rights arguments have their scrupulous and 

of the British people. Clamours so reit- most philosophical understandings been 

erated and prolonged/sought and found brought over to this well-timed per* 

hundreds and thousands of voices to re- ception? Lawless and nnconsota- 

echo them; and in almost every com- tional assemblies were congregated for 

pany, a few weeks ago, where the subject years on end, and every record of 

was discussed, there were some who did what passed at these assemblies bore 

not hesitate to express their belief that evidence to the copious poison that 

an alarm hod been excited, to which was circulated and infused by that? 

timidity, if not worse than timidity, means. The press teemed for years 

had given the main and moving im- on end with the permanent and snlv 

pulse. Hod the measures themselves stantial memorials of conscious and eon* 

been found sufficient to check at once fearing sedition, blasphemy, and t reas o n 

the evil spirit that had gone abroad — —it was asserted by hundreds of the 

had the remedy speedily and effec- most candid, unprejudiced, and en* 

tuallv arrested the external symptoms lightened witnesses, that secret meet- 

of tnc disease— there can be little ings, for the purposes of military 

doubt, that the very repose for which drilling, were going on every ni gh* fa 

the country should have had occasion every corner of the fisaffected district—- 

to thank those most salutary measures but all these' things passed for nothing 

would have been pressed into the ser- before the scrutinizing eye of Whig 

vice of those who had so vehement- jealousy. At last a bold attemptu 

lv abused them, and represented as made to array in warlike guise the 

furnishing an unanswerable evidence forces that had so long been in training 

of Ministerial exaggeration or Tory against the best constitution, and the 

cowardice. It is so, that the Whigs most upright government in the world, 

have long been accustomed to beg the In the capital, a band of assassins are 

question, in every rational or irrational seized in the very act of marching 

matter of dispute with their antago- to murder the confidential servants 

The Warder. No VII. 91 

own. In the provinces, drums sanity— by what means confidence is 

at dead of night — men march most effectually to be re-established 

to their several appointed among the dissevered elements of a 

us. In at least three places long Kindly population — and a great 

5*8 standard is assaulted by and well regulated empire secured 

repared evidently with arms from the necessity of wasting any por- 

ipenents for a regular cam- tion of her energies in watching long 

The great city of Glasgow is and doubtfully over the ashes and 

beleaguered by thousands of embers of an as yet ill-extinguished 

and desperate ruffians— alarm fire of treason, 

uternation arc spread over And in considering by what me- 

imdred miles of the British thods order and good understanding 

— end repose is restored only are most likely to be restored among 

rill of excellent officers, and those that have been led astray, it is 

earied unshaken zeal of loyal surely the most natural thing to in- 

Discovcries are made of in- quire, in the first place, to what cir- 

le committees and ringleaders, cumstances those among the lower 

re seized, and among them classes of our people, that have, during 

schemes of expected and this time of trouble, adhered to their 

battles. Insurrection, in duty, have been indebted for their safe- 

s openly reared her front, and tv from the too general contagion around 

no crushed in her commence- them. Even in the heart of the dis- 

ad now, truly, the Whigs are affected regions, it is consolatory to 

» be convinced that all the know (which we do from the best of 

l had said, and all the Tories authorities) that manv, very many 

wed three months ago, was not thousands, have walked through some 

premeditated falsehood. secret charm unhurt by the moral pes- 

. . .. ... tilence— end preserved entire, amidst 

m , m truth, subm«on is most dl ^ ^^ of ^ xs ^ ai ^ i 

&s pride in yielding."— fellows, their devotion to their own 

duties, and their respect for their na- 

ha auhmission has been made, tural superiors and protectors. It is 

on the one side, and the most consolatory to know this fact; 

i oomplete in the other, there and very important lessons, we think, 

i bo propriety and no wisdom may be drawn from the knowledge of 

in prolonging the shadow it. We would be the last in the world 

mated contest. Honest men to throw the blame of the guilty upon 

ties, we take it for granted, the innocent — but may not the ques- 

a£ one in opinion, and we tion be fairly put to those best acquaint- 

ay are most perfectly at one ed with the districts of disloyalty, 

a*. It matters comparatively whether those employed by the most 

whom the danger was first careful masters, have not been, in the 

by whom it was latest ac- hour of trial, found the least inclined 

an. The danger has now to rise up against them, and to disturb 

a shape that is not to be the general peace of that community 

d " C at the present, its move- whereof they and their employers form 

■ve been repressed, and its alike useful and alike necessary parts. 

anedV- but the true object of There is no occasion to push this ques- 

is, to inquire by what means tion too far — a hint is all we would 

united and combined sense of permit ourselves to offer — and indeed, 

batter orders of the British in all reason, and in all likelihood, a 

to guard against any recur- most effectual warning has already 

these fearful manifestations-- been afforded, where it was most call- 

I, if it be possible, by what ed for, by the personal experience and 

i the spirit that has for the observation of those most imme- 

been checked in its evil diately concerned in the inquiry. 

to be healed and soothed into The blame, if blame there be, is 

on the 19th of April— Bonnymuir, Greenock, and Huddeisfidd, are the 
ssssjat *> 


OS— 100 The W*rdtr. No V1L Opril 

rery far from lying solely or peculiar- effect of all these things ia nothing 
ly at the door of the gentlemen to upon the heart of one poor man, com— 
whom we allude. In our days it ia pared with a single affectionate viam* 
not possible to look around upon the to his cottage— one simple gift to h&B 
world, and to compare what we see in children. The charm or sympathy is 
the style and structure of society with the only charm worthy of the na me 
what we know to have been in the but men are never willing to take the 
times of our fathers, without observ* existence of that charm upon trust- 
ing that many great and remarkable He that ia effectually to he obliged, 
changes have taken place. Every- must see the kind face, and touch* 
where, and in every walk of life, it is the open hand, of his benefactor.— 
too evident that the upper orders of It is too much to expect that we are 
society have been tending, more and to sit in the seclusion of our own pri- 
more, to a sopaxutien of themselves rate luxury, and scatter forth die 
from those whom nature, providence, droppings of our bounty like drifrira 
and la*, have placed beneath them, too great to be visible to the eyes of 
It as not now the season when men those whom we would serve If we 
should hesitate to speak out fairly what would have our good intentions recos> 
they know and feel upon such subjects nised, and our kindness en&hrteed in 
as these. A fastidious spirit of luxury warm and grateful hearts, we must not 
and refinement has everywhere been disdain to come down into the homely 
gaining ground among us. The rich walks of humanity— to mingle with Our 
and the high have been indolently brothers of the earth, and shew that 
and slothftiUy allowing the barriers we not only relieve, but are anxious 
that separate them from their inferiors and fervent in relieving and siaisting 
to increase and accumulate. An Epi- them in their hour of human distress* 
curean spirit has gone wide abroad Every thing will be pardoned except 
in our land, even among those that the apparent scorn and visible selfish- 
would be most inclined to startle at Hess of remoteness— and mortal suf- 
its name. Men have come to deride ferers will forget every other text of 
and despise a thousand of those means holy writ, ere they blot from their 
of communication that in former days memories the touching tod dwfnl de- 
knit all etodera of the people together, delation, that 
Weary of pomp, and shew, and ok- peide was mot ka&b roa mav. 
enmatanee, aha of all that used most The fault, as. we have said* has been 
to dazzle and delight the vulgar eye, universal — in every condition and walk 
men of rank and wealth have foolishly, of social Ufe^-and it ia jus* and neces* 
we fear, laid aside, along with these sary to be had in view, that when ita 
things, many more modest and secret* bad effects have been moat uvurimeted, 
but still more effectual instruments of the mult baa been most eacusable. 
attaching these dependents to their The immense extent of the moniifsn 
persons. The spirit of general kind- turiag establishments in many pacta 
lineas has not assuredly become ex- both of England; and ScotlamV ana 
tinct j— but we have kerned to be too rendered it, without doubt* a matter 
much satisfied with the conscious excel* of most extreme difficulty for those at 
lenee of that general spirit— end to be the head of them to keep up anyihnsg 
too negligent of those minute and labo* like those habits of minute aoauuasU 
rioua services of human concern, by ance and tangible sympathy witn their 
which alone that spirit can be made to people, which prevailed among the 
operate as a healing and cementing masters and apprentices of the con* 
charm over the whole wide-spread and paradvely limited and toning esta* 
diversified surface of human society, blkhmeuta of former days* ftufe, if 
The master has not ceased tocare for his our information be corrects ami wo 
servants, but he has become too delicate have all faith that it is 4o> this garni 
to anew his care by that cordial and difficulty am been effectually ^teuggead 
gratefid condescension of personal com* with, and happfy overcome* ewr in 
munjeation that of old made the vas- instances when it was greatest*-***!*! 
sal look up to his lord like a son to his not a few of our most magnificent 
hither. Societies, and subscriptions, establishments have, through no viai- 
and magnificent donations, and bene- hie human means, save the extrsordi- 
ficent directions and regulations, are nary personal zeal, and IrindlyliabitB 
all excellent in their way— but the of tneir superintendents, escaped quite 

1880/) The Warder. No V1L 101 

fat from the plague that has laid sited the scenes of recent tumult and 
waste so many, immeaaurably inferior disaffection, than the blessed effects 
m them in riches and extent He which have been produced everywhere 
last knows what his duty is, and re- by the hearty and honest zeal of our 
atvea to do his duty, will always, yeomanry. Foolish, and shortsighted 
tamout question, find time and means men, have indeed been found to con- 
si do it. But this is not alL la it demn the great increase which has re- 
aping too far to say, that, after what cently taken place in the establishment 
ass paused, it ia the plain and distinct of yeomanry corps— but we fear not to 
eaty cat every man to limit his esta- say, that this voice of detraction can now 
amhment within the bounds that ad- find no listeners among the loyal men, 
■it of his discharging the obligations either of Yorkshire or Lancashire, or 
surnarahlr from nia condition ? Is of the West of Scotland. The servi- 
tke hope of any temporary gain to be ces which these corps have rendered, 
sarmitted to make an honest man are by no means to be summed up in 
sahrntarily and deliberately draw their own marches and watching*, 
avavnd himself difficulties with which The intercourse which has occurred 
hi it aware of his own incapacity to between them and the regular troops 
? Nay, more, ia the nope or with whom they have acted, has, witn- 
eertamty \>£ any personal gain out all question, been productive of 
over, to be permitted to tempt the happiest immediate effects— but 
amy loyal man to do that which above all, we look to the increased in- 
abundant and most lamentable expe- tercourse which they have already 
ocmo has shewn to be pregnant with created, and which they must continue 
the elements of all social and national to create and strengthen between 
esamusy ? We trust that thoughts landlords and tenants, as affording by 
such as these are at this moment busy far the most sure and effectual pledge, 
k many an honest and in many a for the future well-being of the wide 
loyal bosom, and that many willing sa- face of the country. It is Shakspeare, 
crifiees are on the eve of being offered we think, who remarks, that in times 
up at the altars of Conscience, Patriot- of war, the citizens of the same state 
ism, and Religion. The gentlemen at are more affectionate towards each o- 
me head of the establishments, which ther than at any other time. The 
have suffered most in these last trials, deeper sense whicn is then felt of the 
are the best judges of the modes and community — the identity of interests, 
regulations, in and under which they is no doubt the chief element of this 
are to allow the return of their delud- kindly feeling — but there is a charm 
ed dependents. We have no doubt, for all human bosoms, in the very air 
firmness and mercy will be mingled and aspect of martial exercise, which 
hi the measures they are about to a- may fairly be set by its side, as ano- 
des* b ut when that first great object ther and a most powerful strengthener 
of their present endeavour shall have of all the warmer affections of our na- 
srrsnged and settled — we would ture. The foundations of the national 
such considerations as we have character, both of England and Scot- 
expressing, may receive no land, were laid deep and sure, in days 
or hasty portion of their when every gentleman and every yeo- 
afser concern. man was more or less a soldier — and 

In country life, however, not a lit- now we confess, we look forward to 
tie of the same general fault has been the proud and willing revival of many 
g)M»M"g ground, as well as in the life manly feelings, which must neces- 
ef cities and manufactories — although, sarily attend the resumption of these 
as in that happier life it is infinitely manly exercises, as furnishing rich 
more inexcusable, so it has also happi- and bright hopes, for the welfare 
ry made far less dangerous and alarm- of ourselves and of our children. 
iag progress. There assuredly, there A single day spent by the young far- 
ts nothing to prevent the evil from be- raer on horseback in presence of his 
ing easily and effectually arrested, natural superior — a single dark wet 
TOere the old spirit may yet be said ride shared with his young master, will 
to be entire ana untainted, although do more to bind him to his person and to 
some unwise assaults have been made his house than all the intercourse that 
upon its precious outworks. Nothing could possibly occur between them in 
is more evident to those who have vi- many years of ordinary life. Yf ere 



1QS The Warder. No VII. OpB 

there no fear of any thing that might they hold dear and sacred should know 

call again, in our day, for the actual that peril hovers near, and that it is 

services of these corps, we should still their duty to be prepared to defend 

be vehement in applauding their main- it The apathy with which many 

tenance, were it only for the sake of at a distance from the immediate cir- 

the cordial kindliness which these cies of danger, still persist in regarding 

meetings together cannot fail to nour- what is going on in the country, is not 

ish. But, in sober truth, the case so much to be pitied as to be despised, 

does not as yet stand so— or nearly so. There is wickedness in such bUnchiest, 

The evil has, for the moment, been and it deserves to be punished as t 

Xessed, but he must be a bold man sin. We allude, in particular, to the 

will say that he believes it to be great city in which we write — where, 

at an end. The day may come when within forty miles of what, ten days 

these men may have to draw the sword ago, scarcely merited a slighter name 

in good earnest, in defence of the wan that of raging rebellion, the Lowl 

firesides at which they were nursed President of the Court of Session hat, 

and reared — the churches in which with all his ardent and most boa* 

they were christened and wedded — curable zeal, found it impossible te> 

and the halls, by which offices of kind- raise his regiment of volunteers to any 

neas have for ages been exchanged thing like its proper compliment. B*t 

with the cottages of their Christian this reproach we would hope is 1 

ancestors. destined to lie long upon our heads 

The dark cloud has been dissipat- and, at all events, we trust every 

ed, but alas ! who shall prophecy that that has joined that, or any other corps 

its lowering fragments may not again raised for the same precious purposes, 

unite to blacken the free horizon will abide there till he has a son able 

of the land ? The time is come when and willing to step into his place, 
they who possess any thing that 


Deep fears long since I've had for England's weal, 
Yet deeper are they now than long ago— 
These bleeding wounds, O God ! I pray thee heal, 
And give the Land's Heart once again to feci 
The joy of reflux, answering well to flow, 
In Love her life-blood ; — once again to know 
That all is sound within— that the big throng 
Of thoughts and wide affections rolls along 
Peacefully — like unto yon calm large river, 
Mild and majestic — beautiful and strong — 
Far-streaming — washing with one tide serene, 
The rocky base of the old Castle ever, 
And the soft margin of the Hamlet-green, 
Whose Sycamores half hide the Spire between. 


I love to see you each upon his steed, 

Ye Yeomanry of England, once agen 

Ready, with spur and sword, to serve our need, 

After the fashion of the ancient men 

Of England. — War has been too much a trade. — 

Among our Sires it was a Service paid 

By peaceful livers—part as pastime plied 

By Peasant and by Lord, because, that then 

As now, it was their duty and their pride 

To fight, with the same Omen, side by side, 

For the some regal Banner. Therefore stay 

Your ploughshares ever and anon — as now 

With patriot steel prepared, and Christian vow, 

To shield our sacred soil from the Anarch's sway. 

I IN0.2 Library and Science InUBigtnce. It* 


Dr Davfe Sdemtyk Tour in Ceytoiu— all wooded, axe nrincipelly composed of 

ItofolWwiiig Extract of a Letter from John euphorbia, and mimosa* ; its few inhabi- 

Devy, af. IX, to Sir H. Davy, dated Trin- tanti are a sickly race, miasmata deetreying 

awaatee. Oet, 3, 1817, relates to die eame their health, and the wild animals with 

anastatic tear m Ceylon of which a abort which the country abounds, at elephants, 

afice wee given in the Asiatic Journal, hogs, deer of diffe re nt kinds, leopards, bears, 

vaL VL. pv 476. But something more is &c destroying the fruits of their labour, 

wawided of the extent to which Dr. Davr In the beginning of January I attended the 

vat able to explore the country. With Governor and Lady Brownrigg to Kandy, 

~ and geological researches he com- and had a good op p o rtun ity of *>—— "»»y 

tdon to the remains of antiquity, acquainted with the manners of the natives, 

specimens of natural history, to The country in the interior, and particular* 

of the native inhabitants, and lv round Kandy, is magnificent ; its grand 

of an ianportant dependency features are high hills and mountains, and 

deepvallies and perpetual wood, and pc- 

cxcnaione have been high* rennial verdure ; the wood is in faulty ex- 

As soon aa possible I shall cess. The climate is fine; the air cool; 

wan a pretty minute account of the xe- generally at night below 75°, averaging all 

anew- **? my obaervations : now I must be the year round the m ode r a te temperature 

wavy concise indeed. In July I went to of 74°. 

i part of the island, and visited Prom Kandy I made an excursion alone 

or Mature and the Malagan- into Doombera, and explored a mountain- 

In the former gems abound. I ous region, where a white man was never 

aetives at work in search of them seen before. My object waa to examine a 

in aDavial ground. Here I ascertained that cave that yields nitre. It is a magnificent 

ettxvc rock of the sapphire, ruby, cat's- one in the side of a mountain, in the depths 

and the different varieties of the sir- of a forest surrounded bv mountains of 

These minerals and anna- great height and noble forms. I shall 

occur imbedded in this rock. In send you a particular account of mis and 

I found a great mass of rock, con- other nitre caves I have visited. The rock 

sfanost entirely of airoon in a crya- is a mixture of auartz, felspar, mica, and 

talfine state, and deserving the name of the talc, impregnated near the surface with ni- 

sircaei sack. It is only a few miles distant tre, nitrate of lime, and sulphate of mag- 

from a rook called the cinnamon-stone rock, nesia, and in one spot with slum, and In 

from its being chiefly composed of this mi- another incrusted with hvdralite, similar to 
naval, m company with a little quarts and that round the Geyser in Iceland. From 

asfuaaria. the mountains of Doombera, I looked down 

In the Malagan-patton, the most remark- on the wooded plains of Birtanna, and aaw 
able f i henoinffi a, and what I went chiefly to the great lake of Birtanna, which no Euro- 
see, are the salt-lakes, the nature of which pean I believe ever before visited : it is full 

liiih c ato has been considered very myste- of alligators. 

m from the want of inquiry. This I Returning to Kandy, after a short stay 
able to make in a very short time, and there I next came to this place, through a 
sin die source of the salt. Many of country almost entirely over-run with wood. 
lakes] axe of great extent, and ma I wish you could see some of the noble 
aw aire formed by an embankment ebony trees which flourish here. Three 
thrown up by a heavy sea along a days we travelled in a noble forest without 
level shore ; die water, that falls in torrents seeing a single habitation, and without ob- 
dnzaag the rainy s e aso n , is thus confined, serving any traces of cultivation ; but some 
and nrnadatea a mat part of the country ; fine remains of antiquity, especially about 
the sea, more or teas, breaks over or perco- Candely lake, indicating that the country 
through the sand-banks, and thus the had once been in a very different state, 
is rendered brackish. In the dry Topical Remedy fir the Hydrophobia*— 
the wind is very strong and dry, and Sig. A. M. Salvatori of Petersburg!), in a 
the air very hot ; it was from 85° to 90° letter to Professor Morrichini of Rome, 
when I waa there : the consequence is, a gives the following remedy for this dread- 
very rapid evaporation of the water, the dry- tul malady: 

mg of the shallow lakes, and the formation " The inhabitants of Gadici, but when 
of salt. It is from these lakes chiefly that or how I know not, have made the import- 
the island is supplied with salt. The reve- ant discovery, that near the ligament of the 
naeua^thk one artkU brings government, tongue of the man or animal bitten by a 
samnts to about £10,000 annually. rabid animal, and becoming rabid, pustules 

The Mshfltn patton altogether is a sin- of a whitish hue make their appearance, 
gate country; fea woods, and it is almost which open spontaneously about tat Y&tie, 

104 Literary and Scientific Intelligence. CApril 

iky after the bite; and at this time, the* gentleman it one of the fifteen voyagers that 

■ay, the first symptoms of true hydrophobia nave been despatched by the King of Den- 

make their appearance. Their method of mark into different parts of the world, for 

cure consists m opening these pustules with the purpose of illustrating the sciences. He 

a suitable instrument, and making the pa- was in Italy, in 1818. From his observa- 

tsent soil out the ichor and fluid which run tions this account has been transcribed. 
from tVesn, often washing the mouth with if. Schow could not Jail to be struck with 

saltwater. This operation should be per- sefonishrnent at the view of this magmacgpt 

stoned the ninth day after the bite. The spectacle of nature, so imposing and tre- 

ranady k so rfftcrnal, that with these peo- mendous to the sense, though the rail le by 

pie tins hitherto incurable disease has lost far the most considerable in the spring, 

Hi tenors." BibL JtaL nv. 488. when the snow melts from the mountains. 

Recent Observations retpec t m g the height This immfttse descent consists, nro ualj 

of Mount Btms, by M. the Baron de Zach % sneaking, of three falls, two upon inetined 

qfGemML—" Admitting the height of this planes, each of which, separately, would 

mountain, as ascertained by Captain Smyth, form such a cataract as is no where to be 

the visual ray from its most elevated point seen, and the last is an abrupt and predpi- 

will extend one hundred and thirty miles, tate perpendicular. Professor Earners inane 

winch is in exact accordance with the testi- a measurement of this last leap, and rain II 

many of the Knights. With respect to re- at 800 feet in height ! 
fraction, it may be shewn from calculation, In general, such cascades as are moat ele- 

that it produces the effect of elevating the rated have the least water, and such m dis. 

mountain near seven thousand feetf that is charge large masses of water have little da- 

to say, that if there was no refraction to see vation ; but in the Riakan-Possen, the mis 

Mount Etna from Malta, it would require is reversed. The volume of its waters k 

in addition twice the height of Mount Ve- supplied from a very considenble river, 

savins to be seen. called the Maamdven, into which the lake 

The travellers who have scaled Mount Mioswatten, which is eight or ten German 
Etna vary much in their reckoning as to its leagues in extent, empties itself, not ftr 
height above the level of the sea. The from the owK*&e~— Monthly Magazine. 
Canon Recupero, an indefatigable traverser Goto* Veils. — Mr Bartlett, m Thorn* 
of Mount Gibello, assigns to it 15,000 son's Annals, has lately proposed gaum 
French feet, but this is too much. The veils as preservatives from contagion. The 
Canon has been m the habit of making ob- idea is certainly deserving of serious cottti- 
servations on the Volcano, near forty years deration, more especially as Dr. Uwins, and 
■ue cia s i i ri y, making his ascent once every some other medical gentlemen, *«*rArr 
year. M. le Comto de Borch, in his letters that they may be adopted with a con- 
on Sicily, assigns only 9,660 feet, but this siderable prospect of success. The gaunt 
again is too little. M. de Saussure ap- employed for this purpose is similar in 
preaches nearer the truth, and finds the its properties to that so ingeniously ap- 
height by a barometrical observation 10,032 plied by Sir Humphrey Davy in the safety 
feet. Captain Smyth makes it out 10,203 lamp. 

rest. All travellers who have ascended Etna Salubrity of the London Air. — It was a 

agree, that you may see from it the rock of saying of Mr Cline, many years ago, that 

Maka, the iEolian isles, the Ionian sea, the " London is the healthiest place in the 

entrance of the Adriatic, and the coasts of world." In no place are there so many 

Albania. human beings congregated together enjoy- 

A remarkable Cataract in Norway. — ing so high a degree of general good health. 

Norway may boast of a cataract or water- It has been stated, and we believe correctly, 

fall, much superior to that of Schaffhausen that the happy exemption which the inha- 

on the Rhine, or even to the famous fall of bitants of ]*ondon for the most part enjoy 

Niagara in North America. It was dis- from the diseases common to other capitals, 

covered or noticed for the first time, about is owing to the sulphureous naptha emitted 

eight years ago, by Professor Esmark ; a from the coal, serving the salutary purpose 

drcumstance which is attributed to its very of checking the progress of febrile mfecdon. 

remote situation in the most lonely part of To prove that the air is saturated with this 

the interior, and to the very scanty number naptha, we shall not be able to recognize 

of curious travellers that resort to the Hy- the presence of a wasp, an insect to which 

perboreen regions, for the purpose of mak- sulphur is obnoxious, within the sphere of 

ing observations. its action. 

It is situated in the district named Telle- Architectural uniformity in rustic dwell* 
darken, and named Riakan-Possen, which ing*.— There is something rather pleas- 
in the Norwegian idiom, denotes the smoke ingly allied to good management in a prac* 
of water jutting. An immense cloud, formed tice now adopted by the Russian govern- 
by the drops of water in evaporation, to a ment, of sending to every city, town, and 
spectator has the appearance of torrents of village under its influence— that is to say, 
■moke. not the exclusive property of any nobleman. 

Doctor Schow, of Copenhagen, visited a collection of engraved designs for dwell- 

ebjg cataract in the sununcr of 1812. This ing*» and buildings | among which any 

I Literary and Scientific Intelligence. 105 

iboat Id build himself a house may ing in very peculiar drcumsUncet, there 
one to his mind, but he must choose will always be a great saving of power in 
the number submitted to his inspec- conveyances by water, for wis simple rea- 
rms duty u confided to the mayor or son, that the whole weight of the burden so 
• of the place (gorod-nisckew), and transported is transported by the stream 
rtfgmi introduce a general resent- with a comparatively small loss of power 
st conformity into the country towns, by friction, while the inclined plane on 
time, orders are given for the which the carriage runs supports only a 
pement of the streets ; for part of its weight. On the other hand, 
ormed into lines of proper however, it cannot be denied that many «- 
t» and the houses being of eaual tuitions in which it would be quite impos- 

two stories only bens; allowed.— sible to open a canal, might admit of the 

r rustic the construction of these establishment of metallic and other 'rail- 

na\y be, and many arc formed of no- ways. 

rttsr than vast trunks of trees scarce- Varnith for Wood.— The Italian cabinet 

ed into timber, yet the effect will work in this respect excels that of any other 

equally striking and picturesque, country. To produce this effect, the work- 
Is; with proper accompaniments of men first saturate the surface with olive oil, 
, plantations, and other rustic em- and then apply a solution of gum arabic in 
wots. boiling alcohol. This mode of varnishing 

Rail or Corriagc-xmiyi— In the is equally brilliant, if not superior, to that 

arhood of Newcastle, this ingenious employed by the French in their most els* 

f reducing friction, and facilitating borate works. 

nyaace of loaded waggons, has been Crocodile*' Flesh an Article of Food. — At 

so a very great extent. According Sennaar crocodiles are often brought to 

SaDou, an extent of 28 square miles market, and their flesh is publicly sold 

av&oe of the earth, presents a series there. I once tasted some of the meat at 

data tor this species of conveyance ; Esne, in Upper Egypt ; it is of a dirty white 

si interior of the adjacent coal mines colour not unlike young veal, with a slight 

I them to as large an amount Five fishy smell ; the animal had been caught 

waggons, made entirely of iron, by some fishermen in a strong net, and was 

1 lo each other in regular succession, above twelve feet in length. The Gover- 

L these roads without any other mov- nor of Esne ordered it to be brought into 

i their own gravitating force. By bis court-yard, where more than a hun- 

af a pulley, or wheel, a certain num- dred balls were fired against it without 

carnages in descending occasion a any effect, till it was thrown upon its 

asanber of others to mount, in order back, and the contents of a small swivel 

sa a load at the summit of the in- discharged in its belly, the skin of which 

sssat they traverse. We are, how- is much softer than that of the back.— 

BtanHy led to believe that, except- BurkhardT* Travel*. 



i, in five octavo volumes, of Travels in Holland, Germany, and part 

Hi's History of the House of Austria. f France, in 1819, with References to their 

account of Timbuctoo and Houssa Statistics, Agriculture, and Manufactures ; 

sie* in the Interior of Africa ; by El by Mr. Jacob, Author of Travels in Spain. 

Abd Salem Snabeenie, a Native of . _ . . .. , M ... _. 

BD, who personally visited and resided . ^ Tale m Prose, entotled," Nice Dis- 
erchmnt uTthose interesting Countries, tincttons," will shortly be published. 
Notes* critical and explanatory ; by In the press, Royal Virtue, with engrav- 
Grey Jackson, late British Consul at ings ; being a Tour to Kensington, Wind- 
Cms, sor, and Claremont ; or, a Contemplation of 
sals fin 1816 and 1817 through Nu- the Character and Virtues of George 111. 
■sawjne, and Syria ; in a series of fa- the Duke of Kent, and the Princess Char- 
Letters to his Relations, written on lotte. 

*, lrvOptain Mangles, R. N. Le GuC8ta D 'Henrico IV. in Italian 

ilifcof Brainerd; by the Rev. Dr TCIfe . by M . GuaiZMOnL 

Urn Volume of Mr Grant's History Shortly wUl be published, Manner Nor. 

i English Church, brought down to folcience, a very scarce and curious Tract, 

at 1900T by Dr Sam. Johnson (under the assumed 



Works preparing for Publication. 


name of Proton Britaankas), which has 
never appeared in any edition of his Works. 

The Picture of Yarmouth, embellished 
with twenty engravings ; by John Preston, 

The Village of Mariendorpt, a romance ; 
by Miss Anna Maria Porter. 

A Volume of Sermons ; by Mr Bradley 
of High Wycombe. 

The History of the late War in Spain ; 
by Robert Southey, Esq. 

A Refutation of the Objections to the 
New Translation of the Bible ; by J. Bel- 
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A Reprint of the Rev. John Wesley's 
Christian Library, originally in fifty vols 
12mo, but now to be comprised in thirty 
octavo volumes; from a copy with MS. 
Notes of the Author. 

Shortly will be published, in 2 vols post 
8vo, Winter Nights ; by Nathan Drake, 
M.D. Author of Literary Hours, &c &c 

A translation of Grillparzer's tragedy of 
Sappho, in English verse. 

In May will be published, Travels in 
Sicily, Greece, and Albania, by the Rev. 
T. & Hughes, with numerous fine engrav- 
ings, in two volumes, quarto. 

Lacon ; or Many Things in Few Words, 
by the Rev. C. Colton. 

Anecdotes illustrative of the importance 
of Tract Societies ; by the Rev. S. Meek. 

The Elementary parts of Pestalozzi's 
Mother's Book, in three parts ; with En- 
gravings by P. H. Pullen. 

A History of the several Italian Schools 
of Painting, with Observations on the Pre- 
sent State of the Art. 

Mr Eraser's Travels in the Himala Moun- 

Miss Holford's Novel of Sir Warbeck 
of Wolftteen, 3 vols. 

Dr Brown's Antiquities of the Jews, 2 
vols, Svo. 

Mr C. P. Wmtaker, formerly of the Uni- 
versity of Gottingen, and author of the 
modern French Grammar, is preparing to 
improved edition of Hamonierea French sad 
English Dictionary, which will be compris- 
ed in a portable volume, and printed at s 
bold and beautiful type. 

A Narrative of the late Political end Mi- 
litary Events in British India, under the 
Marquis Hastings ; with Maps, Plana, aid 
Views ; by H. T. Princep, Esq. 

The Principles of Political Econony 
Considered ; by Mr Malthua. 

The seventy-eighth and last part of Dr 
Rees's Cyclopaedia will speedily be pubhsb- 

The first No of " Annals of Oriental 
Literature," to be published quarterly, wffl 
appear on the 1st of May. 

An Italian and English Grammar, flan 
Vergani's Italian and French Grammar, in 
twenty lessons, with exercises ; a now edi- 
tion by M. Piranesi ; with a key. 

Speedily will be published, A Hktorysf 
the Modes of Beuef usually termed the 
Superstitions of the Middle Ages; with tome 
curious plates. 

Preparing for the press, a Minenloacal 
Dictionary ; comprising an alphabetical no- 
menclature of mineralogies! synonymes, 
and a description of each substance. To be 
illustrated by numerous plates, the whole of 
them to be engraved Dy Air and Miss 

Mr Neele is employed upon a new narra- 
tive and descriptive poem, to be given to the 
public in the ensuing winter. 

A Geological Pnmer, in verse ; with a 
Poetical Geognosy, or feasting and fighting, 
and sundry right pleasant poems ; to which 
is added, a critical dissertation on King 
CouTs Levee. 

Printing, in an octavo volume. Potion's 
Euripides, complete, with an Index. 


The Edinburgh Encyclopedia, conducted 
by David Brewster, L.L.D. &c &c voL 14. 
part I. will be ready in a few days. 

Mr Murray's ** Historical Account of 
Discoveries and Travels in Asia," which 
has been for some time announced, will 
make its appearance in the course of May 
next. The object of this work, as of that 
on Africa, is to comprise, within a moderate 
compass, whatever is most important and 
amusing in the narratives of the various 
travellers, who have visited this extensive 
quarter of the globe. Besides the best 
works of known and standard travellers, 
the author has introduced a considerable 
number, which, as they exist only in the 
less known European languages, or in the 
MSS. of our public libraries, may probably 

be new to the English reader. Among 
these may be mentioned, Clavijo's Embas- 
sy to Timur, in 1404—Andradt's Passages 
of the Himmaleh, in 1624— Don Garcia de 
Sylva's Embassy to the Court of Shah 
Abbas, in 1618— Sir Thomas Grantham's 
Voyage in the Indian Seas, in 1383-4— 
Proceedings of the Portuguese Missionaries 
in India and Japan, (from the great works 
of Gusman, Nieremberg, the OrienU Cou- 
quutado, &c>— MS. Reports to the Senate 
of Venice, on various countries of the East; 
and narratives relative to Asiatic Russia, 
from the German collections of Pallas and 
Muller. The whole will be accompanied 
with geographical and historical illustra- 
tions of the past and present state of the 

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Register.— Commercial Report. 



COMMERCIAL REPORT.— April 12, 1820. 

Sugar.— The Sugar market, since our last, has had a considerable revival, and business 
lor some time continued to be done freely at the market prices. For some days past, how- 
ever, the market has been rather languid, but no depression of prices can be stated, nor b 
it probable that any will take place. The shipments of refined goods has been very con- 
siderable ; and notwithstanding the general activity of the refiners, the stock on hand is 
low. The stock of raw sugars is also reducing by degrees, and no arrivals of any cams* 
quence can be anticipated before the month of June, as the crops in the Windward and 
Leeward Islands are very late this season. It may safely be presumed also, that the de- 
mand for home consumpt will, in future, be more considerable than it has been for many 
months past. These things should influence the market, and advance the 
Cqffke*— The market for this article has become dull, and a considerable depi 
taken place. A general alarm has prevailed in the Coffee market for some days, but : 
what cause, or for what reason, we cannot ascertain. The holders, however, are nn— iiisx 
some descriptions of Coffee into the market at reduced prices ; but we conceive that this 
panic cannot last long. The next advices from the Continent may change the face of at 
fair*--— -Cottons—The prices for Cotton have declined, and the market was for sometime 
dulL The considerable reduction in price, however, that has taken place, has trsnptsd 
speculators to come forward and make purchases at the reduced rates. The stock on hand, 
however, is so considerable, that we cannot see any chance of great improvement in this 
branch of trade ; besides, there is no immediate prospect of improvement in the mannfac- 
turing districts, so as materially to increase the demand.— —-7Y>facco.-— In this article a 

lew sales are making, but the market may be considered as very fiat Gravt f of almost 

every description, which had advanced considerably, chiefly, we believe, from a spirit of 
speculation, is now on the decline, and the market is in general become languid and 
depressed. The appearance of the weather, so favourable for the seed-time, will, we coo* 
cerve, tend still farther to depress the corn-trade. 

The same languor continues to operate upon every other article of commerce, as we have 
so frequently had occasion to notice. There does not appear in the accounts from any 
market, any appearance of a material improvement in trade. The present distracted state 
of the manufacturing districts also, has, in some of them, destroyed all trade and aU con- 
fidence. What has long been foreseen and anticipated by us, has at last taken nines. 
Open rebellion has reared her audacious and frightful head, in the chief manufactuone 
districts of Scotland. That it has been prevented from extending its baneful pursuits and 
consequences, we have to thank the energy of our local authorities, our military, and those 
brave men who have voluntarily come forward to defend their king and their country. 
What has taken place, however, has affixed a blot on our national character, which many 
years of good conduct will not wipe away, and has given a shock to the commercial char- 
acter of the country, the consequences of which are painful to contemplate. The wound 
must be probed to the bottom, in order to shew, not only the extent of the evil, but that 
it is overcome, otherwise we can never restore that confidence which foreign nations previ- 
ously had in the character, strength, and security, of this country. 

Weekly Price of Stocks, from 3d to 24tA March 182a 

mmmm^immwmmtmm mwmwmmmm mmmm mmmm 

3 per cent, reduced, ~~~ 

%% per ecu** conev*8>* » # > »» * »*» < >> * *<» # *# » »>#> » »<w# » 
sf per cent consols, 

i mm mmmmmmmm mm 

•m*m**mmpm+m «»i» mmmm mmmm mm 

i *NW »»W < 

%JV WV4 \**0»,m*m VVAlflVW| mm mmmm m* mm 

4 per cent* consols,*********.** 

~m ■#**■ ******** ***** ** ****** *}*» ■■■ ■' 

5 per cent navy ann. , ,.» 

Imperial 3 per cent ann.~ 
India stock,-. 

#»*»*« mm p p# » »>w 
>mmmm<mm mmmmmmmm mm 


«b»j*j^^ %jiJtm%Xmw^mmmt0<0mm*mmmmmm0m*mmm 

Exchequer bills, 2{d, p.d. 
Consols for ace ~..~» 
American 3 per cents. 

mmm* mm mm mm mm mmmm*mm mm 


mmmm mm** mt mm mm mmmm mam m\mm*m 

************* mm mm mmmmmmmm mm mmmm 

tmmmm mmmmmmmm 

French 5 per cents. 

WW » I 

l « >« 



14 15 pr. 
2 3dw. 


74 fr. 50 or. 





684 I 



103$ 4 


im.] RtgUUr. — Commercial Report. Ill 

Own of Rittwax, April * — Amttttdun, 1?:1. Puu, 25:40. Bouxdnnx, IS: 70. 
Fnnkfan OB Miine, 1584 Murid, 34. Cadiz, 34. Gibraltar, 30. Leghorn, 47). 
Goo^U). Main, 46. Naplo, 38]. Palermo, 116 per n. Liibon, .WJ. Bio Junto, 
ii\. Dublin, 9 pa teal. Cock, 9. 

Pricri of GoU and Sihrr, per oz. — Portugal gold, in coin, £S\ : : 0. Foreign gold, 
m tan, £3:17:101. N«w doubloon*, £0 : : 0. New dollar*, 4*. lid. Silver, in 
tan, Mud. As. Id. 

PH1CES CURRENT — Ajn-ii I,— London, March 31, IBM. 


Register.— Commercial Report. 


Alphabetical List of English Bankruptcies, announced between the 23d of 
February and the 83d of March 1820, extracted from the London Gazette. 

Aroott, J. Belle, Sauvage-yard, Ludgate-hill, sta- Jones, W.Jun. Burscough, Lancashire, innkeeper 

Asquith, T. G. & D. Asquith, Fenchurchstreet, 

Ashley, E. Liverpool, sail-maker 

Atkinson, J. & T. A. Atkinson, Bradford, York- 
shire, wine-merchants 

Aunger, J. Exeter, woollen-draper 

Barnard, W. H. & C. Barnard, Liverpool, mer- 

Beckwith, C. Preston, Lancashire, draper 

BUbroogh, S. Gildersome, Yorkshire, cloth-mer- 

Hock, W. Bathwkk, Somersetshire, cabinet-maker 

, F. W. Bristol, sugar-refiner 

Brooks, J. Great Windmill-street, butcher 

Brook, I. Huddenfield, Yorkshire, tanner 

Bunker, J. Grafton-street, Soho, ironmonger 

Carter, W. Jun. Nuneaton, Warwickshire, silk- 
manuf a c tur er 

Cnepraan, R. Beedes, Suffolk, founder 

Cheatham, J. Stockport, Cheshire, cotton-spinner 

Cheemer, H. Brompton, merchant 

Comber, C. Dorking, Surrey, carpenter 

Cook, J. Helmsley, Yorkshire, merchant 

Dale, W. Richmond, Yorkshire, woollen-draper 

Dann, G. Linton, Kent, butcher 

Dybsll, D. White-horse-tavern, Fetter-lane, tavern- 

Edwards, D- Newport. Monmouthshire, corn-dealer Robinson, T. Cambridge, butcher 

Ellis, J. WeQlngore, Lincolnshire, common-brewer Rust, J. Devises, Wilts, innkeeper 

Emmeit, D. Chippenham, Wiltshire, butcher Samson, M. Dorset-place, ClaphsmHroad, Sumy, 

Hear, W. Turnagafo-lane, Fleet-market, painter exchange-broker 

Shaw, J.Micklehurst, Mottram, Creators, clothier 
Shuttleworth, T. Ipswich. Suffolk, Briea-draper 
Simpson, A. St Swithiife-lana, merchant 

France, E. Huddersfield, Yorkshire, plumber and Smith, J. Doncaster, Yorkshire, grocer, 
glatJer Smith, J. S. Brighthelmstone, Sussex " 

Freeman, T. of Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, sur- Sperrin, T* Thornbury. Gloucester, tril i ■■■■■■■ >w 

Taylor, J. Moreton-in-Marah, Gknicestanfaire, 

Keats, J. Leek, Staffordshire, innholder 

King, J. Birmingruun, wire-worker 

Kingdon, C. W eston-super-mare, Somersetshire, 

Kmght, j. For e s tr eet, London, cheesemonger 

Knill, H. Duke-street, WestSmithfield, butcher 

Lawrence, J. tistton-garden, wooUen-Jraper 

Lecand, B. L. Presoott-street, Goodman's-fteldf, 
carver and gilder 

Leigh, R. Liverpool, soap-maker 

Levy, J. Carter-street, Houndsditch 

Lituewood, J. Manchester 

Lister. J. * J. & Lay, lx»groyd-bridge, Huddert- 
field, dyers 

Longden, J. Cam, Gloucestershire, coal-merchant 

Lyne, J.aG Lyne, Finsbury-square, 

Macmaster, J. Norfolk-street, Mile- 

Madntire, J. Tenby, Pembrokeshire, cattle-dealer 

Mackintosh, J. Kingston, Surrey, maltster 

Morris, S. BlymhilMawn, Staffordshire, butcher 

Norris, W. Romsey, Southampton, tinihai asti 

Oliver, J. Hernungtoo-row, Branspsth, Durhasa. 
cattle-dealer ^^ 

Potter, G. High-street, Poplar, grocer 

Richards, W. Penance, Cornwall, merchant-taste 

Ritchie, J. Woolwich, Kent, 

Forster, J. H. * C. Dobson, Norwich, manufac- 

Gsmey, J. F. Gravtt-hill, Greenhithe, Kent, vic- 
Glover, C. Bratetree, Essex, linen-draper 
Gratwkk, E. Milton, Kent, innkeeper 
HafTner, M. Carmon-street, carpenter 
Hatch, W. Eedeston, Lancashire, corn-merchant 
Hamilton, G. dc J. Saxon, Queen-street, Cheapside, 

Taylor, W. K. Birmingham, dealer in tallson 
Tinson, W. Christchurch, Southampton, '""KfrMsr 
Vaughan, W. Compton-dando, Somersetshire, 

Voysey, J. S. RatcUffe-highway, grocer 
Watson, P. Liverpool, merchant 
Ward, S. Bolton, Lincolnshire, millwright 
Wainwright, J. Birmingham, bellows-maker 
Wehnan, C. Illminster, Somersetshire, Unen-draper 
Wilkinson, C. Wormwood-street, London, tea- 

Horefiul, J. GUderstone, Yorkshire, cloth-merchant Williams, J. Crowland, Lincolnshire, grocer 
Horley, E. T. Harbury, Warwickshire, miller Wood, J. Thome*, & Wood, J. WskaAeJd, York- 

Jackson, R. Otiey, Yorkshire, woollen-draper shire, dyers 

Alphabetical List of Scotch Bankruptcies, announced between 1st and Slat 

March 1820, extracted from the Edinburgh Gazette. 

Herbert, C. Warminster, Wiltshire, farmer 
Hindis, W. Leeds, Yorkshire, draper 

i, M. SunderkuKtaear-the-Sea, Durham, 

Archer, Charles, & Son, merchants, Perth 
Archer, William, Ac Co. merchants, Ncwburgh 
Berrle, James, plasterer, Leith-walk 
Bowman. T. grocer and inmroonger, Dundee 
Campbell & Cowan, candlemakers and tobac- 
conists, Stirling; and John Campbell <k Co. can- 
dlemaken and tobacconists. High-street, Glasgow 
Douglas, Laehlan, merchants, Oban 
Hood, W. A J. tanners at Ladyburn, east parish of 

Lting, Francis, merchant, Newburgh 
L incaitiT. Daniel, merchant, Denny, now residing 

In Duke-street, Glasgow 
Mackid, R. writer, fish-curer, and dealer, Thurso 
Helvin, James, et Son, dyers, Glasgow 
Morgan, A. merchant and dealer in flax, Kirkaldy 
Morgan. J. merchant and dealer in flax, Kirkaldy 
M'Ooull, Robert, merchant and ship-owner, Irvine 
M'Gill, W. fanner and cattle-dealer, Drummullen 

Nest, Alex, merchant. Edinburgh 
Pride, William, merchant, Kettle, Fifeshire 
Robertson, William, merchant, Inverness 
Stevenson, J. dc Co. dyers, Govan-Croft, near Glas- 
gow, and merchants in Glasgow 
The Perth Foundry Company 
Vallance, H. & Co. timber-merchants, Paisley 
Wilson, A. merchant and ship-owner, Aberdeen 



Andrew, T. late brewer, Linlithgoi 

19th April 

A mot, G. merchant, Leith— a dividend 16th April 
Cadell, T. 6t Co. brewers, Edinbuigh a dividend 

59th April 
Patison et Connell, merchants, sMtabunrh--* drri» 

dend 16\h April 
Robertson, John, merchant, Leith— a dividend S6th 


EDINBURGH— March 29. 


1st, 38s. 6d. 

2d, ,36s. 6U 

3d, 3*. 6d. 


1st, 29s. Od. 

2d 25s. Od. 

3d, 22b. 6d. 


1st, 24«. Od. 

fed, 20s. Od. 

3d 17s. 6d. 

Average of Wheat, £l : 16 : 4 r>12ths per boll 

Pease & Beans. 

1st, 20s. tJd. 

2d, 18s. Od. 

3d 17s. Od. 


Regititr. — Commercial Report. 
TtKtdttg, March 28. 

9a. 6d.t 













Quartern Loaf . . Or. 9d. 

Potaioea (28 lb.) . . Or. 8d. 

Freeh Butler, per lb. It. 6VL 

Salt ditto, per itonc . 16*. Od. 

Ditto, per lb. . la. Od. 

Eggs, per dozen > • 0*. 8d> 


to 0*. lOd. 

to Os. Od. 

Oh. Od. 

Or. Od. 

Oc Od. 

Oil Od. 

*,...... STi-Od. 

i, JOtOd. 

i, 34*. Od. 

HADDINGT01* — Hues 31. 
I Barley. I Oat*. I Peaee. I £ 

ltt, 2Sa. Od. I let, 25*. Od. l.t IT*, Od. let,... 

M, 25a. Od. [ 2d, 88*, Od. ( Id, 15*. Od. [ SdJ... 

| 3d, eea.0d.J3d, 80a. Od. | M 13a. Od. | 3d,... 

Ainrage of Wheat, £1 I 15 : 7 : S-lgtba. 

.17*. 41 
.lit. fid. 
..13k. 04 

£■*■, Com Bxtftanye, Marcfl ST. 

lean ." . .nun 
ftatis. ■ - MID SB 

&■ ' 

KiFMn . ... 

Bh . . -iStt 41 
wEfeMB . *!»> M 


Poland do' .'. !.lto 

Potato do. . . M to 
Fins Ao. . . . Wto 


(Aa lUturm received in 


New Rapwad, £» to <«. 
Jvtrtgi Prion of Corn fa EnghmA aid Waiei, j 

maW 18tft Afim*. . 
nat, TO*. It— Rye, 41a. id. -Bar ley, Ma. ad— Oat*. « 


eW Ot h i mil , per BoU of 128 ft*. Scot* TVoy, or 110 lb*. Avoirdupoii, of the Four 
Wtj» ImmM ftg frtaamg at* lata Jan. 1818. 
wkeat, 73a, KV— Rj* Ma, 3d.— Barter, Ida. 8<L— OaO. 31a. Id.— Beam, SSa. &L-Pe*u, 5"n. Od. 

Bt™ or Big, Ma. iiL— OMmta], I9t Id. 


Iks family of rata dial fell during the month of Much it Its than that of any a 

•tenth tow the lilt eix jeui In other reapee tt there ia nothing deterring particular u 
ant The mean tetnpentnre hai been gradually, though slowly, increaring — the averaj 
fat ta* month being one degree and » half higher than that of February, the same qua] 
% let* than that of March 181 9, and Dearly a degree higher than the mean of March fi 
■"•-'* The Thermometer, during the month, sunk eight t ' 

lg ao long a tract of dry weather. The flnctaetJona f__ 
• of considerable extent, generally preceded or accompanied by 
■let ef wind. The mean of the Hygrometer ia above the uaual average of the tpring 
■soothe, and the point of depontion is consequently below the mean minimum tempera, 
ran. 1Mb ia generally the eate, indeed, during the month) of March and April, owing, 
» hat been often icnrarited, to the prevalence of dry cold wind* from the north and north- 
aM. The tcaasn altogether haa been uncommonly favourable ; and though vegetation 
hat not hen en rapid at laat year, there ia reason to expect ■ mud) more abi " 
•fall land* <*T rnrii. In thii district the orcharda were fCarCcly ever known ti 

StgUUr^Mttmnttgicml Rtprt. 

Mstrmolimical Tablk, txtrneted from tke Stgidtr kept em the Banhtf 
the Tw,,few mOc* out from Perth, Latitude SS 9 Si', Elevation •"■ 

185 feel. ' 

■MBtflOA.M-na*.<r«r.1T) . I. .__ 

10 P.M. (««v- o* ™- 171 . ».J1* 

___ WMtajMrn. «) M.I0S 

Mian ditto. <huU«tt>a<lif, .133 

—.—, —— iifa, . . .in 

. In tl hoon. ... .«M0 



10 P.M. . 

tairfDap. 10 A.M.' 





10 A.M. no, . 


... Lowe* ditto. 


a. 11; H-tg*m«Wlin,K 

M*tio»o logical Til LI, tttractcd Jtm* the Regitler kept at Edinburgh, in 

the Ohttrvatory, Ca!io*-teli. 


Register.— Appointments, Promotions, Sp. 













A. B. 


BL Major Hon. F. Cethcart, t Dr. to be 
Lieut -CoL 24th Feb. 1820 

Cape Frye, 4 F. Major ltth Aug. 1819 
-— T GowelL Coldst Guards, Major 


Gwyn, from 22 Dr. Colonel, vice 

Sr D. Dundee, deed 19th do. 

leal. Finnan Captain by porch, vice 

Ifaykw.ret tdMaroh 

■ Orienon, Lieut by porch. do. 

' Cornet by porch. do. 

Cornet by porch, vice Elton, 

24th Feb. 
Delaell, from 45 F. Cornet, vice 
krtt, 67 F. 18th July 

Bromwkh, Cornet, vice Nixon, 

17th Feb. 

Cornet Bebb, Lieutenant, vice Taunton, 
dead 2d Sept. 181? 

F. W. E. Barrett, Comet, vice Devi*, dead 

let Feb. 1820 
Lieut Clyne, Captain, vice Butler, dead 

9th March 
i, from h. p. 97 F. Paym. 
, h. p. do. 

Captain, vice Mullengar, 

■ 17th Feb. 

Ensign Hopkaaa, Lieutenant, vice Smith, 
tTetBnT 2d March 

att, Ensign do. 

nTLicut vice Maw. dead 

12th June 1819 

G. D. Youna, Ensign 6th April 
Ensign Lcefie, from 46 F. Ensign, vice 

Gordon, h. p. 8S F. rec. diff. 
WMIM "» * 2dMarchl820 

>a*ter. Captain by purch. v. Lav, 

24th Feb. 

r— e- Boiler, Lieutenant do. 

J. B. Cough, Eneign do. 

2d Lieut. Kennedy, 1ft Lieut, vice Trot- 
ter, 9 Vet. Bn. 2d March 

G. BuBer, 2d Lieut. do. 

Lieut. Berwick, from £4 Dr. Lieut vice 
Smith. Adi 19th Dec 1818 

Eneign Dore, Ueot 21st Aug. 1819 

M.Scnatff. Ens. vice Chambexlin, dead 

let Feb. 1820 

G. Fraskbmd, Ens let Sept 1819 

Lieut Robertson, Capt vice Juxon, 10 
VetBn. 2d March 1820 

Eneign Blackwell, Lieut do. 

T rfotnieaai. Ens. do. 

Lieut Pephem, Capt vice Patison, 8^ Vet 

Ensign Parker, Lieut do. 

LteuL Spratt, from h, p. 4 W. 1. R. Lieut 

vice Rosa, 4 Vet Bn. 2d do. 

Eaoum Chambers, Lieut v. Hearne, dead 
^* 3th July 1819 

Lieut Moody, Capt by purch. , vice i Fane, 

1W.I.H 2 March 1820 

. M'fLenate* Capt vice Chisholm, 4 

VetBn- do. 

Ena. M'lver, Lieut do. 

R. Manfrr*"". Ens. do. 

£a**uCradock, Lieut vice Madden. 92 F. 
- "' ' 24th Feb. 

_ Ferguson, Ena. do. 

T. Eaaan. Ensign, vice Dalaell, 17 Dr. 

17m do. 

1 * ftl * U,IU,,,,f- WSa 
W. N. Hutchinson. Ens. 24th do. 

Tait, from h. p. 85 F. Ens. paying 
foe Leslie, 18 F. 2d March 

49 F. Lieut-Gen. Sir M. Nlghtingall, Colonel, 
vice Maitland, dead ^ 19thFeK 

urmsoy, ret 9m March 

Lieut Lamoot, Capt by purch* do. 

Ensign Sanders, Lieut by purch. do. 
Gent Cadet G. Ross, from R. M. CoL Ena, 

vice Power, cancelled 2d ditto 

Sun. Jones, h. p. 1 F. Smg, viae Ross, 

h. p. 1 F. 17th Feb. 

Lt^GoL Fleming, fro. 2 Cey. Reg. LL-Col. 

vice Brereton, h. p. York Rang. 24th do. 
W. Warren, Ensign 8ttiMay 1819 

Ensign Barlow, Lieut vice Macpnenon, 

dead lJthdo. 

— Mulkern, Lieut v. Thomson, dead 

15th July 
W. Fitamaurice, Ena. do. 

Comet Marriott, from 17 Dr. Lieut vice 

Jones, dead 18th do. 

Lieut Mackay,Capt vice Cameron. 6 Vet 

«. Bn ' «v, ., 2d Maiun 1820 

Ensign White, Lieut do. 

Gent Cadet J. L. Clarke, from Roy. MIL 

CoU. Ensign do. 

Lieut Watts, from 46 F. Capt vice Val- 

lance, dead 24th Fab. 

Troop Quar. Master M. M'Phail, Quar. 

Mast vice Murray, dead 9th March 
Lieut. Cameron, from h. p. Lieut vice 

M« Arthur. 2 Vet Bn. do. 

Ensign Ingilby, Lieut vtoeM'Carthy, dead 

„ « —*. «_ »th May 1819 

G. P. Clarke, Ena. 17th Feb; 1820 

Surg. Rule, from h, p. 68 F. Surg, vice 
BcllaJrs, h. p. 58.F. f4 do. 

Lieut Carroll, Adj. vice Hutchinson, bid. 








25th May 1819 
Ens. MacdonaU, Lieut vice Rewaon, dead 

26th June 
W. J. King, Ens. let March 1817 

90 Ensign Sneyd, from h. p. 89 F. Ensign 

9th March 1820 

91 — Trimmer, Lieut vice Hood, 9 Vet 

Bn. 2d do* 

D. Macdowall, Ens. do. 

92 Lt MeikleJohn, from h. p. 56 F. Paym. 

vice Gordon, h. p. do. 

93 Lieut Sparks, Capt viccBoulger. 7 Vet 

Bn. . 17th Feb. 

Ensign Arthur, Lieut 2d March 

Spent. Ens. do. 

R. Br. Field-Marshal the Duke of Wellington, 

K.G. dt G.C.B. Colonel in Chief . vice Sir 

D. Dundee, dead 19th Feb. 

1W.I.R. Cant Fane, from 36 F. Major by purch. 

vice Irby, ret 2d March 

R. S. C. Viscount Beauchamp, Ensign by 

purch. vice Myers, prom. 24th Feb. 

2 Lieut Barry, Capt vice Hance, 1 VetBn. 

2d March 
■ M'Lean, from h. p. Afr. Corps, Lt 

1 C. R, 2d Lieut Gray, 1st Lieut v. Tolloh,dead 

let June 1819 
2 Lt-CoL Smalt, from h. p. York Rangers, 

LL-GoL vice Fleming, 53 F. 

24th Feb. 1810 
YorkC. A. Boetafeur, Ensign by purch. vice Dor- 
mer, prom. 9th March 

^■us s^bjBfS^Bjmbio' A^^Ffleonv ejesaaBjssjajs) 

J. Campbell, Hosp. Assist vice Cousens, dead 

24th Feb. 

Gen. Sir Samuel Hulee, Gov. of Chelsea Hospital, 
vice Dundee, dead 19 do. 

Lt-Gen. Sir Harry Calvert, Bt G.C.B. Lt-Gov. of 
Chelsea Hospital do. 

— Weston, Ueut vice Archer, 6 Vet. 
Bn. do. 

W. CoddtEns. 


Bt Lt-CoL CMaUey, from 38 F. with Maj. Cuy- 
ler, h. p. 60 F. 


RtgtsttT» mmm Appowhn€fds i Promotions, c\c 


Bt Lt CoL Bourcbier, from 11 Dr. with Major 

Smith, 22 Dr. 
Bt Major MUner, from 4 F. with Bt Major Frye, 

h. p. 3 F. 
Capt Ramsey, from 14 F. rec din! with Captain 

Rnollts, h. p. 
— — Brownson, from 25 F. rec diff. with Capt 

Priestley, h. p. 5 Gar. Bn. 
— - Nolan, from 70 F. rec cliff, with Captain 

Reed, h. p. 4 W. I. R. 
Lieut M'KensM, from 22 Dr. with Lt Rotasop, 

Muuanger, from 10 F. with Lieut Blane, 
h. p. 1 F. G. 
— — Leavaeh, from 21 F. rec diff. with Lieut 
Johnston, h. p. 3 W. I. R. 

— Reveley, from 46 F. vac. diff, with Lieut 
Campbell, h. p. 30 F. 

— Ridge, from 66 F. rec. diff, with Lieut. Ma- 
son, h* p. 

■■■■ " Lee, from 81 F. with Lieut Dixon, h. p. 

' ■ Bojton, from 2 Ceylon Reg. with Lieut 
Foynts, h. p. 30 F. 

Croft, from 1 F. G. rec difll with Lieut Ly- 
ater, h.p. 
1 ' Stacpoole, from 18 F. rec difll with Lieut 

Xtjmar, h. p. 49 F. 
— - Smith, frn. to F. rec. diff. withLt Holmes, 
h. p. 14 F. ^^ 

■ Harrison, from 41 F. rec diff* with Lieut 

Borrowes, h. p. 103 F. 
-— - Clemen*, from 41 F. with Lieut Purdon, 
h, p. 4 W.IR. 

Stern, from 60 F. rec diff. with Lieut Wil- 
li, p. 61 F. 

Hor, from 69 F. rec diff. with Lt Wind- 
aor, h. p. 1W.LR. 
Comet tf'Cally, from 11 Dr. with Cornet Wymer, 

If Dr. 
Ensign Forbes, from 22 F. with Em. Smith. 89 F. 

— , a Dallas, from 31 F. rec diff. with Ensign 
I jQdm ft op, h. p. 4 F. 

winter-Master Smith, from 14 Dr. with Quarter- 
Master Houghton, h. p. 25 Dr. 

Jackson, from 40 F. with Quarter- 

Hales, h. p. 67 F. 

Resignations and Retirements. 

Colontl Cooke, 3 West York Militia 
U«ut-Colonel Irby, 1W.I.R. 

Ormsby, 49 F. 
Major Nay tar. l Dr. G. 
Captain Lay, 22 F. 

Appointments Cancelled. 

Captain MuUingar, in F. 
Cornet EnkineTtl Dr. 
Ensign Power, 50 F. 
Asttt-Surgeon Greig, 67 F. 

Dep. Assist Commit. Gen. Phillips. 


Capt A. F. von Brandis, late G. L. 28th Jan. 1820 
Lieut. S. Swiny, h. p. 38 F. 26th Nov. 1819 

— Lowson, h. p. 22 Dr. 15th Sept 
— — Ross, late ft Yet Bn. Guernsey 

3d March 1820 
Jas. Fraser Dunlop, h. p. 58 F. London- 
derry, Ireland 9th March 

— Roberts, late 5 Vet Bn. Alderney 

30th Dec 1819 

— — Green, 67 F. Bombay 20th July 

Burton, 5 Vet Bn. late h, p. 4 Gar. Bn. 

Aberdeen 25th Feb. 1820 

Ensign James Fraser, 1 Vet Bn. 13th Feb. 

— F. Sander, late Germ. Leg. 19th do. 
Paym. A. Macdonald, h. p. Rifle Brig. 

Nichols, 19 F. 28th Aug. 1819 

— Burgess. 2d Lancashire Militia 

14th Feb. 1820 
Assist, -Surg. Ader, h. p. Ger. Leg. 30th Dec 1819 

Runstadt, Ger. Leg. 24th Oct 

Dep. Assist Commis. Gen. Rankin, Canada 

Add-ons and Alterations too late fir htser. 
Hon in their respective Places. 

1 L. G. Capt Earl of Ux bridge, from 7 Huss. to be 
Capt. vice Mayne, ex. rec diff. 

8th March 1820 

1 D. G. Lt Dames, from h. p. 56 F. Lieut vice 

Waldron, ex. rec diff. 16th do. 

2 Dr. CaptSpooner, Major by puroh. ▼. James, 

ret do. 

Lieut Graham, Capt by puroh. do. 

Cornet Shawe, Lieut by purch. do. 

A. W. Wyndham, Comet by purch. do. 

7 Capt Mayne, from 1 Life Gds. Capt vice 

Earl of Uxbridge, exch. 8th do. 

7 F. Lt Black, from h. p. Rifle Brig. Lt vice 

Payne, esc rec diff. 16th do. 

3 F. G. J. Bernert, Ens. & Lt by puroh. vice Ar- 

mit ret do. 

1 F. J. Mackenzie, Quv-Mas. vice Park, dead 


9 Lieut St John, from h. p. Meuron'i R. 

Lt vice Robinson, exc do. 

10 M'Nair, from h. p. 8 F. Lt v. Sims 

exc rec diff. do. 

28 — Arbuthnot, from h. p. 11 Dr. Cast 
by purch. vice Teuton, prom. do. 

R. P. Douglas, Ens. vice Parker, pro. do. 





Parker, pro. 

Walker, Roy. Art at Chelsea 14th Mar. 1820 
— — • Karteup, Roy. Eng. in London 28th Feb. 
L t.O en . Cheney, from G. Gds. at Beverley 

9th March 

Major-Gen. P. Mackenaie, Colonel of 5 Vet Bn. 

at Sheffield 7th do. 

■ ■ ' ■ C. Irvine 4th June 1819 

" Hamilton, R. Wag. Train, London 

18th March 1820 
CoL D. Rattray, h. p. York Lt Inf. VoL 21th Feb. 
Shektrake, R. Art at Reading ~~ ' " 

Lieut-Col. R. French, h. p. 89 F. 
Haties, h. p. Canadta 

23d do, 8 

n Fenc at Fre- 

dtrieton. New Brunswick, Aide-de-camp to Mat. 

Gem. Smyth 30th Dec 1819 

Middleton, R. Mar. Chat 5th Mar. 1820 

Major A. Macdonald, h. p. Portuguese service 

2d April 1819 

— Gilbert Elliott, R. Mar. on passage from the 

Mediterranean 17th Feb. 1820 

Captain Nixon. 10 Vet Bn. in Guernsey 25th Jan. 

. Haggerston, of late 8 Vet. Bn. 

18th Oct 1819 
WhmneD, 53 F. Duke of York Indiaman 

19th Feb. 1820 
— — Momgomerie, 57 F. Clonmell 28th Jan. 

Lieut Emery, Capt vice 


Prideaux, from h. p. 80 F. Lt do. 

Pack, from b, p. 71 F. Lieut vice 

Clements, exc rec diff. do. 

— Chichester, from h. p. 14 F. Lt 
vice O* Hehir, exc rec diff. do. 

Capt Addison, from h. p. 62 F. Capt vie* 

Dick, exc rec difll do. 

Lieut Spottswood, Capt by purch. vice 

Rowe, ret d*. 
Conroy, Capt vice Wood, 8 Vet 

R.Br. Quar.-Mas. SerJ. W. Hffl, Quar-l 

Surtees, 4 Vet Bn. 
1W.I.R. Major Bradley, Lt-CoL vice Rom, 7 Vet 

Captain Lord, Major 
Lieut Anderson, Capt 
Ensign Redman, Lieut daw 

Holt fm. h. v. 4 W. I. R. Ens. do, 

1 V. B. Lieut Worlledge, from h. p. 3 Gar. Bn. 

Lieut 24th Feb. 1890 

t Bt Major M'Intyre, fin. 2 W. I. R. Capt 

Lieut Williams, from 60 F. Lieut vice 
Semple, cancelled do. 

Maj.-Gen. St George, CoL v. 
dead 16th 

Assist-Surgeon Tonge, M.D. from h. p. 
15 Vet Bn. Asiist-Surg. vice La Cloche, 
exc 24th Feb. 

Quart-Mast Surtees, from R- Brig. Ens. 
Fraser, 7 Vet Bn. do. 

Bt. Major Ebrington, from h. p. 21 F. 
Capt vice Campbell, cancelled do. 

Lieut Memdes, from h. p. 25 F. Lt do. 
Ensign Walker, from h. p. W. L R. Ens. 
vice Bradley, cancelled do. 

Lieut-Col. Ross, from 2 W. I. it. Lieut- 
Col. vice Walker, cancelled do. 

Lieut Tubb, from 5 Vet Bn. Lieut 

1st Nov. 1819 





Register.— Appointments, Promotions, $c. 



, from h. p. 100 F. Lieut. 

54th Feb. 1*20 
Capt Loan, Aom R. Scott, Capt vice 

Frederics, cancelled do. 

Ensign Renwick, from h. p. 2 Gar. Bn. 

Ens. vice Kemmeter, cancelled do. 

■ Mackay, from h, p. Cape Reg. Ens. 

▼toe M'Pherson, cancelled do. 

Lieut. Hargrove, from h. p. 92 F. Lieut. 

vice Taylor, cancelled do. 

Ensign M'Phail, from h. p. 35 F. Ensign, 

vice Hay, cancelled do. 

Medical Department. 

Assist Arthur, from h. p. Hosp. Assist. 

Moir, cancelled 13th do. 


MaUGen. Sir Henry Torrens, K.C.B. to be Adl- 
Gen. to his Majesty's Forces 25th March 1820 

Hone Guards, 95th March 1880. 
His Royal Highness the Commander in Chief has 
been pleased to appoint Malor-Gen. Sir Herbert 
Taylor, to be his Military Secretary. 

Ordnance Department. 
Royal Armory. 
fd Capt* Stopford, from h. p. 2 Cunt. 

26th Dec. 1819 
1st Lieut. Campbell, 2d Capt. do. 

— — — Tomkyns, from n. p. 1st Lieut do. 
2d Lieut. Stow, 1st Lieut. do. 

— — — May, from h. p. 2d Lieut. do. 

Royal Engineers. 

1st Lieut Baddeley, from h. p. 1st Lt 7th Sept. 
2d Lieut Foster, 1st Lieut do. 

— — Smith, from h. p. 2d Lieut do. 

2d Assist-Surg. Parratt, from h. p. 2d Assist-Surg. 
vice Humphreys, h. p. 1st Feb. 1820. 





O.V. Vernon 



Edward P. Cox 
W. D. Smethurst 
George Sjpong 
Edward Wavell 
W. A. Longmore 
F. R. Dashwood 

J. B. Toker 
J. E. Griffith 
Thomas Caswell 

James Rankin 


Yiea-Admiral, Sir Graham Moore, Commander in Chief in the Mediterranean. 
rhsj I isintnumt. Secretary, Harry Munro. 

Rev-Admiral, William Charles Fahie, Commander in Chief at the Leeward Islands. 
Fhtg-Ueutenant, Joseph R. Thomas. Secretary, E. E. Vidal. 







R.a Wessh 
J. B. Taker 
E.C. Carry 







W. D. Smethurst 

J. R. Thomea, F.L. 
a R. Lambert F.L. 



latU. W. S.Kn«pman 























SirF. Drake 


Will. A Mary, Vt 
Cheerful Rev. Cr. 






Lloyd Edwards 
Geo. Patterson 
M. Brown 

Robt Somerville 
W. H. Clunes 
Jas Debbie 
Chas. Linton 
John Rainey 
Peter Corarie 
Chas Cameron 
Gilbert King 
Wo Anderson 

Assistant Surgeons. 
John Baird 
Rd. Warwick 
Edward Finucane 
Rob. Gourley 
And. Ramsay 
A. D. Wilson 
Rt Morrison 
James Adair 
Rt Lamont 
Wm Black 
Wm M'Gee 
Dd. Gelatlie 
C. OTriell 

H. B. H. Long 
Henry Ennis 
Wm Turner 
Wm Webb 
Fk. Dillon 
Robert Golding 
W. II. Bond 
Wm Smith 






Supernumerary do. 
Ditto ditto 
Ditto ditto 
Ditto ditto 








Sir F. Drake 












Queen Charlotte 
Sera pis 

fUgitUr.—Appointntenti, Promotion!, fc. 
JUUaOanana ApfOtntnienlt. 

Cleik of tot Surrey. DWM^M- DmM B. Damn. 
>iqa of a-Oaat-jai-DnU Howkndi, M.D. 


BIRTHS. wtlh, to bdta OUfta Rom, dUjANr of theater 

.... _ Gauml Sir Chattel R«, Bart rfUMnnn. 

J«.». At Quebec, UMtedWJanwaKeTr.EKi. M . MEdlnbuxfh, Lieut. D. -Hefarian, !•!• of 

Judge of the Court of King-, nench. ■■on. ^^ the rifle bnndo, to Jin, eldest daughter of Join 

it At Gibraltar, the lady of Motor Tin* Fyeta, DmmmaoJV&q. 

bmI u j Uw h . *™. MareA I. At Aberdeen, the Iter. Aftm. Cneheae. 

ho. *U- At Loaoheed, the lady of Uw lute R. Btrarhaa, to Ann, fMo« daufhlar of the lin He*. 

— LLeiiL- Colonel Colqubouh Grant, Fonea. to 
Margaret, mnud daughter of Jaiuea Bmtkt, En. 

s. At bUsbuiinTHMor Halmein, of the Hun. 

i. At bat bnnl«-i bouBi.'afS&yoah, AhMiiae. 
■hire, Mn Wfflawn BretaW, to H. Out lantia. 

A At UTspsai, iMato Banter ,**t- to Ca. 

tbariue, unul daughter of WlUuBB BM B» 

of Major Wei- 

13. At AHyre, Ihr Mr of Sir WUlBun O. C 
don Cumminf, af Altyre and Ootnonotown, B 

it At Ayr, Mn Fulknon of Sksldan, ■ dai 


1. At BoaiilattoB-IwuK, Lanarnahira, Sli Hiddnifua. to WW rounreot da 
•iKdaukJ Lockhan, of Lee ami Cure- "* UuRn, Dt Mutter, rilrtiuauriehL 

»W»0 R*gitUr.~ Death*. U9 

14. At Edtohurrt, Mr John LHB, bulkier, lo M. At Gkttrow, Mi- Elin Cook gf Newton 

Jeawe, efc!t«mu*£uTof Hi Richard Fneer, Shah- hull. NonbSdfeUd. ■«■»». 

'HBSS'^SWj- — Derid Patenou, Eh. banker and iiuuraiKe- 

JgMg*! p,i *!« ta Jj Wininrn L««hing, En. broker In Edinburgh. ^ ■ 

IwiySfli, Wt£ rlSf' ""* t# " ** ** .,"■>* igSTSlUMM Wb-trt, —*— . 

It P""g tam Ldtll to Montroee, on 

DEATHS. — A1 *I f p Mr uilberr H'Clure, merchant, i 

, Hn Coatra of Unite 

.if/rtf II. 1S1B- At Sauumpen, to (he KM to- W- At Gbigow, Un Coal 

&-*, Lieutenant Alexander M«iJeo3, of the Merfru — At Park-plane, BdlntMl 

mawtry !— ml at Badulln, In the Ubod of Ceylon, hell, third daughter ut Lord 

•a fnc lira May nat. In eonenuenoa of over-frl - At Loghead, Lleoleaani 

3" uiumfi «k ldjmkv, nannu macHOO, — <•»* w— iu iwm na « auo n . 

&0, ■nii l i n tourgaon to the farcca, both e» of K. At Knock, BuBhire, Alex. Stronach. En. 

"wtoteMaj-MaeWiof bMJlneMnch, lileaf.Skv*. - J»me. Wiu, K«. aged S6, ™nj y »m inS. 

-Je*-. 17. 1813. At Fort-WilTem, In Iha Bert •wrtceofth.HonounUJleCwttDdl.LompKij. 

todiea, H. Komi, En. fgWMwf R u a anuun t, — At Kirkwall, WlutomEnldnt, i lean « 

*. In India, three mouth, itfo hi. arriral.o. oTAkoaoitor Mart*. Eeq. 

Anderwm, En. curgeoii, Holm mbUmnL 17- At Tarr-bouxr, David Irrlng. En. Burgeon. 

Oct is. AT^rnu^lltWUIkaCniMilatbBB, - At Maun**, Captain D. V Jeans*, 133: 

huanfflwl-. . * - AlhUhouee, rh^rnUoeW-touU, Mr rUeherd 

Dm. n. At Port Antonio. Jun tie*. Df Tho-nm D**A, UK tnhmMikc to Edlnhugh. 

»««,■**■■ bo of th. bit. Wr Robert Rrtd, tad. — AttbtlUDHof TuruT. Mm Stiuut, .If, of 

■nni,PMn, On a*r. William Stuart, mlnlKa of urn pariah. 

— it tilnhlail. Chuta Merrills. En. rormerty «*- At Dean-part, aw udtnbnnjn, Mail Mb 

Ian. lately — _ At Hrenurgn, Hi William Martin, rati book- 

Crelg. En, — At Grange, Hka Anna Lander, tkleetdauga- 

Uonounbfa tar of the deccaeed Str Andrew Lauder of Foun- 

3 Currie, W- At KltbUdV, JDw Cralekahink Uttae, 

rTsOlIHW younger! .on of Major Myme, 791h rcgtmenl. 

^ - At HmhouwrnekLhouar, Mr. ]»bel Hamilton. 

**. AlHaplea, Cardinal Cairacelalo, biahop of "mow of thedeccued Mi AieaaniHr Brown, mer- 

F iin u na r chant in Edinburgh. 

V. At Ida aeat, Trctowairen, In Cornwall, sir — A[ Ihirorrie., Mr John Dunn. mlnlater of the 

TtsI ViTTHrj, But. Independent chureh (hen. 

■**. L it Oh. VUlm Pen. tw SpmUi Town, - At Selkirk, tin Hun, dim* of E. Minn, 

J M^wh kftg « pfotnfted llhienh FnocUCralum. Eh. 

Ek. fjrtflr ■ uprmntiuw hi Antkeanti tor S Afara* i. AtEdtobunh, tba britat dingfatB; of 

ItdfBof'StThornaitoihoViltt.lnihitkllirid. Georn Wiuchope, Im. 

II. At BoOwtar. intheeJdre.rofMi«e,John - « Pwklunn, Mr rViUinn Stewirt, lata of the 

■kin, Ihj. kta muasta of the esatonu then, Cudbear Company , Wetunlnater. 

!■!* ■■aUljt.ofthtBjuntyrfn^r^conuiinrMTT — At Lattfa, Hra Janet Harper, widow of the 
efnw, Ma. ftc 'lata Thonua Hart, roarchant (nan. 

— AlOriaC Hr WBasj MManm, — At CikAtnnatreat, Edmburgh, Mm Oudiner, 
«■ At BuMnaVW.lbiki. Martha S. simp™. «*<•* daughter of itnlaliCapulnJameiG^TilneT, 

akbrtanajtcar nf Join atnnana, lata atntabi to royal inarnwi. 

awTTthCoL - Captain Jame. Atierdour, R.N. a oati.e of 

1*. At !¥■»■*■■ Major-Geoen! John Ltodaty. th> dn, 

17. At Onnard-hDUK, PrJaHy, Henry Bowie, — A[ Dtrajfrlaa, Jamm Graham, Km. of Furlo- 

~-| if MlllMlail 111 llllfn h~U lata -rlter ta Dumfilea. 

— Jtaartoik, Xnonua Slmttrn, En. of Star. — Atnarnouae, Hope park-end, Hka Hay. 
afMIS. ^ — Mil KalhoriD. Boru, wife of Kooatt Dlek, 

U. At AroM-ludn, »aar Perth, Lieut. -General writer, Edinburgh. 
Kiaart Stuart of Rdt. of hll MaJeatViarrar In lu- *- CliarlotU tfllaahrlh, lnfiuitdaurhUiof Ht H. 
anymlaa n ■ Ltaat. Otnaral In the eerriot :of the S. Bringloe, Nekon-atreit, Edlnburgli, 
ekkaaaaBhla Eftat India Como an t. — Ely ihipwreck, on the court of France, Mr 
■da) Lane, jun. lata of Hamburgh, wad ■£ 
._..._.. . U |id,, 1 adl3. 

I, Ea|. of S- At Broughtno-atieat, Edinburgh, Hra Oralg 

f I. At Ayr, Mr Henry Cowan, Jun. writer and ^MrJswIdeiwin, aged US, ralkSof Hi ThuJoaa 

a. AIL- a>, Tho.IcgHve*j.ofFeal,aa H lGO. - At RardtellkNtreet. Edtotorjwh. Mira Oraea 

—At Marrilkvaouae, ffle Right Hon. Alexander, Brown, eldeat daughter of the late Captain Andrew 

larlaf Lewan and MtMUe, aged 70 yeara, Hti Brown, B.N.of JoWtootoim. 

1 , 1 I Ir to ajoweoed hil father in the real 18Tt. He — At Montroar, MinDleaaon. aklM-Whtcr 

■narnkaC to th* jmi 17S1, Jane, the W Counteai, of the tote Jama Dickmn, Eaq. merenant ralun- 

■tl itonghlar n/jnnn Thommi, Eaq. ofClapham °w- 

->i ' >-w left five roo. and th™ daugh- ■>- At Stranraer, Mia Agne. Campbell of Airiea. 

■ eldfat, VkHHmt HpUgonie, In- 6. At Bunulde-cottagt, CampalB, Rob. Brjuui, 

tStleaand-aatei. The lale Earl Keq- 

■TUIe «ai mmprollar^eneril of — At Irrtne, Darkl Dale, Eu. 

-.-. ^ootlanrl, and one of the miBna - Suddenly, at Dean-hall, Stockbridge, Andrew 

*» aaearari H , Aul- Among therubUe cllariUea Thonuon, Eaq. of the Mud of Trinidad, aged «. 

■ftaairity, with which lu. l.cedihipwai olndaUy 7- At gharmw-head, sear Sheffield, Major-Gen. 

naanraiC wan eta Lyhif-rn Horpltal. the Home Patrick HackenrJe, colonel of the MfMnftahaaa 

af H a— B, , the Sanely for the lr.lmt.iom Blind, battalion, after it yaanV aetire emptoymarrt In the 

u-rtoefaBdUiraMtaitttutJon, and theBIMf So- atrvlee of hli country. ^*^' 

■kaj. 8. At Edrnbureh, Mr John Tormnce, h*k>r. 

ll AtTaaaaifaMottoaa, Berk., Colonel sheU- HanrrraratnW. 
* " hewTal ertmen. — At r knnala , Hugh Brwalil. ITiii -f flu ii 




e cefrn of thoie rrat talents a hi ai 
ic i«tn*>i*e of 


-.. - . — — AtrMinhurgh, Sarah Korean, aptroaeaTW. 

n HtTokuWn, Mr Maule, rjq. 

W uTt^'fT^lwntaaiUint'dhUlHU'itbin borne, jourgint daugtu^Taflhe lale CoL Kkkart 

— .t.r^— . um u on* m»l wti nearly fatal IleptenHoTRkkuSor 

ID hlahrslth, rijau inUrrie .tuUyof the great woiki — Al ITinn'MOrrl, Edi 

of the old nun, which then oiled riW Rami, .inrfflm. E*]. aged H9. 

ViMlM, Floientnee, mil Bolofnce* Ktuub. AI — At bia nunc,', boure, in a*~. ™ws« n m 

li™ Mr WeUaU.*Sed nartinilar attention, and Mi SO. 

r»npHraoietdlnfhjt.4tjtryaniHnurio( Kngliih IT. At DarttUlone, His Calder Of DrrkWannk 

(mdnOM Of rank. 11 i. naarh, .i*.T fear, aeo IS. At St John'mill.SdmbBr|n. laehelje, |M> . 

•tun Mi WntflntmnlvudlnnntlaUi-tf >ui:i en daughter of Mi Ednid Kouettaon, tntkaUA 

, - -r of tr*. Aeealemy of Arta in St nier- woCbiiB. 

' noT the pre ~ lu (Jlerelaiid row. St Umrfi, London, Mat. 

wdedihrlatr rin I Tin nil n i 1 1 if iln n jilnjojioi lien 

If. Hi.etL.r- " i' I' 'In I nil II ~ Tlnllnl 

__ . UK kind md Alexander Gatherer, third « of r t in. 111—. 

Mention to all who ■pproacbtd bun. lb auraeyor of bus for Ranfihire. 
malion which no nun mi men can- *0- AI Edinburgh, 11 the home Of her MDhn, 
if, will long endear hi. memory to out in* Be.. Di Mriklrjohn. Mb Maraartt Craa^ .Ararat 
. There never * more Indus- aujilrinr, daughterof the lain UugiCie*. iaa. uf 
than Mr Wo. He panted lqrwxrdi SilincSw. 

JOpretnre.. many of them of icry kigr di- — At bat houre. H i — m i IK BMpt Mt 

m—ltnin On late mmblt Sorerrifn honoured Wlllrem Fife, upward, of 80 TOUnl nTt-B. 

bin with Mn nfnnsji ud Meaadiip, ad en- Lu«y At hi. bratbs'i nouao, m Lesta, MiW. 

nfarnd hr aul W lndjQt iruoa mil work., which Aminruna, aged 3". 

tureamrc to he found ll muy of tbeprindpnl ml- Jcarrneying to embark for £3nn. O one «s/l 

nrttono bt Eoione ind Anwrlcm. Sereral of hi. 111 mm if I ill ill linn M1JI1 llllll Culllll. 

beM are ll the royal enlketnii at Buckingham- of the 8ih regiment of native Ururnfry, 

jnaraei and the voidable iuli« retained in h» o>m — Suddenly at Paria, Lady Cc 

nailery iraoy of great Talue- Hii laat great worka, let. She waa the wile of lfj I 

dedicated tn the diOualon of rnotal and rrtigioui mtleruan of twpKtmbilitjr. It 

*■■'!■■ fL and in the ■p pa* M * >M * of Mi talents to her eoaeb having been oietUuuenu at (j^w 

•act nohle Bans— k* was nets are-Lied, ate, t r — ■ ■ i till pat i lill In rThn fllniisM 

Carat Healing the Sick, and the two maanHlcfflt and OB Wring it £a fell town dead, aura**! b 

work, now la the al PaOnsall. In hit he Irom the eflbct. of the fiiarit. 

naansrsand deportment Hr Weat waa peculiarly — At Bath, In her 86th rear, (hanCd of Dan 

aaM and imaanimlnc, and retained to the the Orle, and mother of the late Mb B. B. Sbaifchn- 

■fUnlttie habit. awraSmnllcltv of eharactet which — A t hi. name hi Gnat Gaonrratraet, Want- 

tnaik the reapcetahle aect to which hli parent! be- mlnater, John Hoaiar, £*q. ued ST. 

lo n ged. Ha am well known to the eriiata of the — At London, John Grant, En. of WaDBne,fei 

t.'raulnent. and wa. a member of alUhc Kademlci the peiith of St Vincent. 

of art In Eoropr, He retained hli raculUe. u. the — Al Blackheath, R- Scott, iVi.cfSrihaan*c-n. 

ha(.ihouahmiitateorhaalihwa.DflaIe.oreeUe — At Auehtnrardar, Oeowa Hume, Ttntner 

Waat hn left two aowTn wbnm ha propett, will — M^Ed-a'rd Smith of SpH 

denlae. Thla prineipallv oonawni of numerout Caie oTtbe moatwnaulaicban 

worki from lii. o-n ptuol, and unt shake nneel- intheTilh feat of hl> aje. 

. —u_-u , '--'--- ^ TuluTi ;eart, It wa> hia eanatant n*c 

0. and Initead of imnking nti 

, _.rl Pringlo of Torwoodlec. Hired, and imoked It Lnateadi 

Marr, eLlrat itaufhter of the late will hedlreeted that hiabodr 

all, a>q. Anlintrive. the (rare by poor men, who 

!, Leith-walk, Jama Peat, E*q. each: That Ore Amenldunlt 

11. At Edinburgh, Mn Helen Butter, widow of frlcmli diuviid attend, or any mournlne ba wenhv 

Mnneo Fleming. Gk|. PrinoCMtreet. ihcrnon hliHcount, UDderafanrlninaf Dnkif. 

— At her home, In CharloUrarnian, Edinburih, ipcctivc Icgariea 

Mn Bailout, widow of John Mean, Eaq. of Bal- — at Mair-uore, ccar GWaiceateT, John Rofen, 

birr.,. attheadrancadaaeof lOTniB. Hchadllied a 

— At Edinburgh, Alex. PiMtarn. Eaq. joimrcal flte relaria, and enjorad food brnDlT braith UD 
aaa of Lieut--Co£inel Thomaa Fateraon, late oftho within about a Tear o/hla death. 
IMliahtdrlHona. — At Hampilead, the Hon. John WmrdabS-Ba- 

— At BraehouK, Bdinburih, William Huttci, ton of the H imuan empire, In the TM yeat of Lw 
lark land 91. tee, 

II. BuddenlT. at Dalwhlnnlc, nearBlait Athol, — At Rome, .liter Fortune* CioncarcUi, of the 

where he had h.ltpl on Mi iviv In hn country Hat Cnullne order, In tin 109th year of net art, and 

hi the Highland!, Sir Alexander Maekmrde, well 7ilh of her rendenoc In the oinenu 

known for lib aS»enmroui lournlt. in lb* deatrta — At Budlr-hoiue, of the Katlct ferer, Margaret 

of North America. IuIkIIh Smith, rldcat dauglitcr of G. Smlth.TSro, 

— AtPcwlnhplln lha S.ianu Kirrb.. wi«. of _ Al Bath, the RotTt. HaweU, LL.D. and 
M.D. in hli nth nat. He wa. the father of the 
Miadonary Societi, and the nuadon to the hUandt 

ft Dorl, PiiMtn. Edluburch. 




MAY 1820. 

Vol. VII. 




Ml of 

* by H. H. Milman, 




TWk the Third. 

Fft/JfsMngln Northumberland- 



MM* ill* 


flan Matthew Peris (Conttm*. 
dftmm Vm\ VI. J 
Account of die Death of Robert 

Daks of Normandy' wmn 1 41 

The BeJAt of the Standard, 1138.142 

st llsngs happened to Thomas 
ef Gmnary on a Tuesday „143 
I ibwtiwoftheChnrcfaofNonnandy 144 
apparition of St Thomas to the Sail- 
em on Bottd the Royal Vessels. ih» 
Lyi of UtfHc the Anchorite 145 

TBS MMt9W*mmm*m*iimmMmmmmm*tm»»* m» »»m*» m* »i» IVi 
K* 1llH|| JKCm««mmwwmm«m«mm«mwm»«m»14S 


VoIV. H»Ftajtt 
Ms) ▼• Tbe Cypress 



M»VI» To the Morning Star -.157 

No V— Mark M 
Isn. lit rimnmiiii Adventure with 

en • Koto in the Edinburgh 
r, No LXV. By Rev. H. 

of Dur- 
TW fwaiftont 8on. Am ** £1*V# 

Itss*** in ift XXXVI 171 

Attn* into the 1IM Volume of 


if Wbnttu 


Beta of the Acted Damn in Union 

ReXV. ^ _ 

Omry Lane ^mttm* 


Caveat Garden Theatre 


" JLwttU? on the Death of Sir Daniel 
Donnelly, late Champion of Ireland 186 
Letter from Lord Byron, enclosing 
* rhiH n*ni«r* 


ChUd, Daniel 
Letter from Dr Scott, 
44 Dirge on Donnelly.". 

«*«MIM<» ID* 


Sorrow if Dry, being a New Song, 
by Dr James Scott ..«»..— .»««.«.«.. ih» 

Letter from Mr W. W. to Mr 

Christopher North. .189 

Extract from my Great Auto-Bio- 

grap h i c al Po em 190 

Sir Daniel Donnelly, a Ballad...,. 191 

Letter from Odoherty 192 

OdonneHy 9 .an Ode, by Odoherty~~193 
Letter from Mr 8eward_~„__194 
«« Uflaloo, Gol, or Lamentation 

over the Dead .. ».«. «.«. ., , ».. — —»» — * lb* 
A Hebrew Dirge, by the Rer. J. 

Barrett, D.D.S. F.T.C.D. Pro- 

fern, of Heb. in Trin. CoL Dub. 197 
Letter from Mr Jcnntngiw- .,„...., .199 
A Dirge over Sir Darnel Donnelly, 

by Thomas Jfrtnmgs.... ib. 

Letter from Mr Richard Dowden 200 
A New Song, to the tone of the 
Groves of Blarney, by Richard 
Dowden «.——<■ . »... ...201 

Speech delivered at the Cork Insti- 
t ution ——— — «■ ■» ■ !» — — .— .1. 2 02 


ly Memorial..— »— 






Works Fm»ABJN©ior Publication 217 
Monthly List or New Publico- 

TIONB... — ■ 



Commercud Report —— .—.— < — ——»« 2 23 

Meteorological Repor t ..*.* — .. ——— 227 

W«* w th-.Bmr Dndto. Ac ft* | SHfSHSiEitt 

«•— — —MM 




To whom Cmmuntcatiomt (postpaid) may be addressed. 


[Olitjb & BOYD, PrimUrt, Edinburgh.] 



Ho XXXVIII. MAY 1820. Vol. VII. 


If was generally felt, we think, that Were any retrograde movement in 

"Sunor Lord of the Bright City," did the authors fame to be the com*. 

ate quite fulfil the rich promise of Mr quence of the present poem, no apo- 

IGknan's first poem, " Fazio ;" and, if logy, most assuredly, could be sought 

we mistake not, it was scarcely less or found for him in the general tslec* 

amorally suspected that the chief cause tion of his theme. In fixing, on the 

*f the allure lay in the choice of the contrary, for the subject of poetical 

sisjeet. The scene, indeed, was placed embellishment, on the dark and pre- 

■ Britain, but we, modern English, destined overthrow of that sacred city, 

eeald not flatter ourselves that it was where alone, for long centuries, the 

plated among our forefathers— «nd in Most High had deigned to glorify- on 

spite of many exquisite beauti es , both earthly temple with the visible my- 

ar conception and of language, there stery of his peculiar presence— -where 

wis nothing in the poem itself to atone alone the light of revealed truth had, 

aw the want of that national interest during ages of heathen blackness, been 

which, with one exception too illus- concentrated and enshrined — where, 

trisets to require being pointed out, in the fulness of time, the Son of the 

bai formed the deepest and most last- Most High himself had appeared in 

iaf charm of every successful produc- the form and likeness of man, to crown 

laws of the epic muse. The imitation a life of miracles with a death above 

a? a certain great living master, be* all things miraculous— the chosen seat 

ides, was perhaps too apparent both of one dispensation, and the chosen 

■ the structure of the fable and in cradle of another,— Mr Milman un- 

ths devdopement of the characters, as questionably, has been fortunate 

sail as in the diction of some of the enough to take possession of one of the 

best passages in the piece; and, on noblest and most inspiring subjects 

iht whole, although Samor would that ever lay within the reach of any 

awe been more than sufficient to at- Christian poet. The Fall of Jerusalem 

act great notice, had it come forth as was the last terrible scene in the hia- 

he first production of a young author, tory of a long favoured race, every in- 

ts effect certainly was not to increase cident of whose good and evil fortune 

he reputation of one that had several formed a necessary link in a mysteri- 

peara before exhibited his full posses*- ous chain of supernatural annuncia- 

soo, not only of a singularly rich and tion and supernatural completion. 

&did imagination, but of scientific Even in the books of Moses, written 

and acquaintance with the tech- at the very beginning of the national 

steal principles of his art, still more existence, and many centuries before 

extraordinary in a person of his age. the fulness of the national glory of 

• The Fall of Jeruialem, a dramatic poem : by the Rev. H. H. Mihnan, Vicar of St 
afart 'a, Bradfng, and late Fellow of Brasenoee College, Oxford. London ; John Murray, 

Vol, VII. Q 

1*4 The Fall ofJeruMdem. CMay 

the Israelites, this, the awful catas- not affect the imagination as peculiar— 
trophe of their national drama, had ly adapted for dramatic renresentatioo- 
been distinctly foretold. Prophet fol- The passions and the situations are too 
lowed prophet to awaken and encou~ general and too much diffused over 
rage the devotion, or to rebuke the multitude* to be truly dramatic ; foar 
coldness and chastise the backslidings in that species of composition, the 
of the chosen people, and each in his principal element of success has always 
turn pointed with a mournful hut a been found in the happy delineation 
steady finger to the same final over- of a fine play of thought and sentiment 
whelming calamity. At length the in individual characters. Now, hi the> 
long series of prophets terminated in piece before us, there is no essential 
the Son of God, and he, more clearly train of incidents regularly engendered 
and decidedly than any that had gone out of the affections and relations of in- 
before him, announced to the devoted dividual8,and consequently there is not 
nation the now near and impending much of consecutive personal interest 
consummation of their destiny. Of extending through the whole course 
the many that heard and scorned his of the drama. The passions of the in* 
prediction, not a few lived to witness dividual characters are vigorously ex- 
with their own eyes, and to share in pressed, and their sufferings are deli* 
their own persons, the terrors of its ful- neated with an appalling and earn- 
fihnent ; while far different was the mending mastery of imagination, but 
fate of those that had embraced the all these are but so many detached pec- 
glad tidings brought by the Prince of tures, for they lead to nothing, and 
Peace, and obeyed the distinct warn* the catastrophe comes on without asry 
ing, " flee ye to the mountains f for dependence upon then. And these 
the page of history testifies, that not circumstances, although they had not 
one Christian Jew was a partaker in occurred to the poet when he was lay-* 
the last miseries of the beleaguered ing the plan of his work, have evi* 
and captured city of his fathers. A deutly, we think, exerted a great in* 
more visible— a more sublime example fluence over him in the execution of it, 
of the completion of prophecy has fo r although the Fall of Jerusalem 
never been exhibited to the world,— be in form a dramatic piece— the read-* 
nor shall any such ever be exhibited, er, who pauses after peruaingittocoii* 
until fas the poet before us has very aider by what passages he has been 
skilfully and powerfully suggested most pleased, will, we rather suppose, 
througoout the whole tenor of his have little hesitation in deciding, that 
performance) that fast great day shall these, with scarcely one exception, ate 
arrive, wherein it shall be manifested all specimens, not of proper ttagic baa* 
to the eyes of men and angels, that the logue, but of magnificent epic dsscrip- 
downnul of Jerusalem was but the turn or of high lyrical inspiration, 
type and symbol of the closing cata- either pathetic or sublime, 
strophe of all earthly things. We shall have enough to say here* 
Grand and magnificent, however, at after on the beauties of this poem, but 
Mr Mihnan's subject must be admit- since we have begun with imentsoning 
ted to be, it still remains a matter of its defects, it may be as well to amy 
some doubt with us, whether he judg- here, once for all, that—mating the 
ed well when he resolved to treat it in Fall of Jerusalem to have Men an adU 
a dramatic form of composition. That miraWe subject not only for poetical 
a subject may be sublime and impos- embellishment, but even for dramatic 
ing, and in itself highly poetics!, and embellishment— Mr Mihnan would 
yet not well adapted for the drama, still have done wrong in making, at 
has already been shown abundantly in he has done, the chief substance of 
the history of literary enterprise ; and his drama to consist of a dehneation of 
we are not prepared to say that Mr the contending elements of the later 
Mflrnan has not followed many illus- Jewish fanaticism. It is not possible 
trious predecessors, in mistaking that that we should give the fulness of our 
for a tragic which by nature waa more sympathy to beings stained with all Im- 
properly fitted to be an epic or a man vices,— of whose character theonly 
lyrical theme. In spite of all the tolerable trait lies in their firm adher- 
genius of JEschylus the incidents ence to an outworn and supplanted 
properly arising out of the situation system of religious belief. The three 
of Thebes as a besieged city, do principal male characters introduced 

1 MO/] The Fail of Jerusalem. 1*A 

by Mr Milmin excite no deep into- to quote, the language appetrt to be 
rot— they neither fix the attention chosen with exquisite skill, and is of- 
nor keep hold of iL The disputes be- ten put together with a fine gloss ;— 
tween bimon the Pharisee and John but, as we have said already, it is in 
the Sadduceeare in general coldly con* passages purely descriptive that such 
ducted,— although there is one passage praise is most frequently due to Mr 
in which the denier of the doctrine of Milman. We shall begin with this 
nawrection expresses, with a masterly beautiful speech. 
energy, his mode of thinking in regard " Tit. It must be- 
to the pleasures of life. But, indeed, And yet it moves me, Romans! it confounds 
what we have said concerning the dra- The counsel! of my firm philosophy, 
attic imperfection of Mr Milman's rhMt Run'*, merciless ploughshare must 
composition, must be understood with ... **" ° *"• . ._ 

to passages Throughout there are where Kedron atom- feet its scanty waters 

ottered .many fine touches expressive Digtfli from stone to stone with gentle 

of the obstinate and infatuated hopes motion, 

of the Jews, that they were soon to be As through a valley sacred to sweet peace, 

detiiered from all their miseries by some How boldly doth it front us ! how majeso* 

direct interposition of heavenly aid. callyl 

Their hatred— their acorn of the Ro- Like a luxurious ^neyard, the lull side 

am power is depicted so as to produce b^^Z^to^lMo'nhn* 

laSaiSr 1 5T ,l ■ ?o^ o bL t ^enri;rbS^ 

■eia* of long cherished faith and con- fumptuous palaces, 

Hence are seen fermenting and mad- with cool and verdant gardens intenpers'd ; 

easing apeople whom God has aban- Here towers of war that frown in massy 

Jened. Tlieir faith, not being answer- strength. 

si by any divine protection, produces While over all hangs the rich purple eve, 

ear? a wild delirium of zeal, which At conscious of its being her last fereweU 

eettroyt the balance of all natural Of l^ht and g^ to Umt feted city. 

IwSzi^aaia^^ K^AIttttST* 

Wsmn into every ^peaes of dark and i n undrnturbd and kne aerenity ^ 

hlaody atrocity. Had these arcuin- Finding itself a solenin sanetnary 

stances been made to come before us in the profound of heaven! It stands bc- 

naae distinctly in the portraiture of fore us 

aatividoal minds, and had the action A mount of snow fretted with golden pin- 

of the table been made to hinge more uacles ! 

dandy upon what goes on by means The W 5[■ ,III, ** thou Sh he worshipped 

of its persons, there can be little doubt . . there » . .. . , . . 

*£*• **?!? might *"? *"£"?* Kre^ko^^ 

sfer more perfect poem than he has 0n ^^ flowery-sculptured cstST 

dene, But we are criticising too much Glitters the homage of his parting beams, 

when there is so much room to ad- By Hercules ! the sight might almost win 

aire. Oar apology must be found in The offended majesty of Rome to mercy, 
oar respect for the genius of our young Tib. Alex. Wondrous indeed it is, great 
pact, and our anxiety to see him aa Son of Csesar, 

free from faults as he is already rich But lt 8haU ** morc "<»d'rous, when the 
a Wan tiff, triumph 

Tha tragedy opens on the evening <* ™™**~ *«*** *<~ *>rasen 

Branding ; the last night of the siege— Whidl *^ „ ^^ ^ would mfilt 
Titus end his Roman officers survey toe world 

the beleaguered city from the Mount To worship in the precincts of bet Temple, 

of OKvca, aa it lies before them gleam* As he in laurell'd pomp is home along 

iag in the rich golden light of that To that new palace of bis pride, 
fcal sunset The splendour of this TIL Tiberius ! 

■atioue capital is set forth in one of II cannot be 

feespeeehes with prodimoue luxury of ^ ™* w J»at cannot be, which Rome 

•kt£JX^ 0mn ^ m 7 A TltU8 ' *• *"* ** * 

mthuaiaam ecarcely carries him be- TO< , ^ theCf Alexander, H must fen ! 

youd the sorrowful historic majesty of Y on lofty city, and yon gorgeous Temple, 

the lamentation of Joaephue. In that, Axe consecrate to Ruin. Karthk weary 

wd in some other passagea we are about Of the wild factions of this jodoui peso^a, 

19* TkeFtilofJcruMkm. £Mmy 

A»aA«ratfe«iooTWTAth,thewtmthrf baveprtdooedigtilltttxmgerdRcttfhe 

M ****** , _ , . hn merely shewn a determined entiitt— 

?^^J^^t^jS!^ aiaelnofveiigeaiux^suA^ 

DU Thy brethren of the Porch, hnpe- t^iboailiim,^tiwltolumjelf. He 

rial Titus, that it niide the iMtntment of a m»- 

OflateesteemM thee at the hdgto of those ternatural and extraneous imtmJsfton, 

That with consummate wisdom have tamed audi at that which battened toe foot- 

* **** . .... atepof Titus to the nuns of the ten* 

TfcaflercaandttnbiilAt psasions which dav p^ should not he represented as peiv 

J?* . ^ j _. *■_* ia_ cetving, in the midst of these inpoored 

cT* Sa. 1 ^ ^™*^ •^Mi^la% dial he i§ Ib^aj amy ttiaw 

Severely didst maintain thy sacred quitt tern visibly placed are calculated topro- 

Above the clouds and tumult of low earn. **«• Joveeeileon, unquestioning, np- 

Rut now we see ihse stooping to the thai, on the tide of Fate— it becomes not Ti- 

dom tustospeculaietoomuch on the impulses 

Of s vcjy fl ews aftcd o n, now esrtraaced of his own minor p r o g r ess . The idea 

In deepest admiration, and anon of Destiny is notbiig unless it be kept 

Wrath ha* the abaolute empire o'er thy 8Wtt he d and shrouded in the stern on- 

Methiritawemutturisehoolcmrroyslp^ approachahle darkness of relentless 

And cast him back to ths common herdof gloom.— It sways, grasps, and hurries 

roen, on the whole existence of its lnstru- 

TiL Tis true, DtmgorM? yet wherefore ments— it does not divide the soul — 

ask not, it does not leave one part of the im- 

Fer vainly hare I qoestion'd mine own rea- pelled spirit to theorize on the nove- 

aon : ments of the rest. The whole man 

2?L*! ,, a **- ****" ■* whence «• ■■*• is bound in his heavenly fetters—and 

Tr^telUm^ carriage*, duty here, presented as swallowed J. to one blind 

And that the appointed desolation cUdes oTerwhelming energy of human will, 

the tardy vengeance of oar war. Diagoras, strung high to more than earthly en- 

If that I err, impeach my tenets. Destiny thusiasm. 

Is over all, and hard Necessity While the Roman draws, closer and 

Holds oJct the shifting eoniss of human doser, his " imprisoning wall" with- 

things out— the Jews within are divided by 

^Z^JZ^utZtJiT !* m T d *^s*!f "^ 

And urges in its vast and sweeping motion JFSL *"* P^ 1 "' ■?« ™^ ,Bt I " **- 

Kings, Consols, C«ars, with their mightiest *"?* wno,, & *" lexers, is made 

srmiet, the instrument to prevent them from 

Each to his flbc'd inevitable end. executing any combined movement, 

Yea, even eternal Rome, and Father Jove, or taking up any one rational scheme 

Sternly submissive, sail that onward ode. of defence. In this last night of the 

And now on Innonits rushing bosom, afcge, the elements of their disunion 

1 nasi its sUrtt tallows swell beneath me, m represented as more jarring than 

^"^Roms •"l"""* "" rf evet. The bitterness of defeat exes. 

•Gainst yon devoted dty. V ni * them not more smiinet the 

common enemy than internally against 

There is something exquisitely just themselves. In spite of the proud 

as well as poetical in the idea which hopes which still awaken from time to 

this passage unfolds of Titus, as time in their bosoms, the heaped up 

being vehemently impelled towards tide of their calamity begins to slacken 

the destruction of the city by an their confidence in the misinterpreted 

inward feeling for which he cannot prophecies whereon they had hitherto 

account. This idea is the happiest relied. A spirit of incipient Infidelity 

that could have been selected for meet- mingles itself visibly in the workings 

ing us at the opening of the piece— of weir maddened souls. The high 

but, perhaps, it might have been still priest complains that his ephod and 

better if Titus had not reasoned upon mitre command no respect among the 

the impulse which he feels, or appear- furious dispntanta whose business it is 

ed to consider it as any thing that re* to defend the temple of the Lord.-- 

onired to be accounted for. It would Rage, hunger, despair, stir every 




1890.2 The Fall of Jerusalem. 197 

bests* into ft stormj— and when, at may be likely, above all othen of her 

length, Heaven begins to pour forth tribe, to be the favoured mother of 

prodigy on 'prodigy, and omen on the mysterious infant. The bridal is 

omen, all fufi of Sickening darkness held forthwith, in the house of the 

—we feel that the waywardness of old Pharisee, and the last cup of wine 

Man has already been preparing all is shed in its festive celebration.— 

things for the doom of the Almighty ; Youths and maidens sing the nuptial 

tad that the catastrophe, sudden and song, full of all the old pride of their 

awful as it is, can scarcely surprise people, and the bridegroom is ushered 

| even those that are involved in its tern- into " the chamber of his rest," with 

acsmous visitation. The last prodigy a tumult of joy that contrasts fearfully 

ii that recited by the High Priest him- with the general gloom all around the 

sdf— the audible, not visible desertion city and the habitation. While the 

of the temple by the tutelary angels of song is yet prolonged, the final assault 

the place— end when it is told, we per- of Titus takes place — at that moment 

cove that all is completed. the angels desert the holy of holies,— 

Upon a sudden an< * tne whole of the city is wrapt in 

The pavement seemed to swell beneath my an instant in the darkness of its last 

feet, agony. Could our limits permit us, 

And the veil shivcrM, and the pulan roek'd. we might quote many passages of the 

And there, within the very Holy of Holies, highest splendour from this part of 

Tine, from behind the raged Cherubim, ^ e poem, but we prefer the episode of 

^™" c^aUnous 00 ^' """^ the y° un 6 er rister Miriam > «** *» 

W«he*nl,m. when a king with aUhii host lover > J *\ m - , . . , 

Doth quit his palace. And anon, a voice, Javan 18 a Christian, and prenoua 

Or vans, halfmgrief, half anger, yet to the siege, hod retreated with those 

Nsr hnman grief nor soger, even it seenVd of his faith to the safety of the moun- 

Ai though the hoarse and rolling thunder tainous region beyond Jerusalem. 

spake But Miriam, although she has em- 

Wsh the articulate voice of man, it said, braced the creed of her lover, refuses 

« Let v* dkfabt r to qu ; t Der f ather in ^ hour ^ j^ 

Amidst all the terrible spectacles distress, and undergoes, in the strength 

exhibited in the beleaguered city, a de- of filial devotion, her share of all the 

yirful relief is ever and anon afford- calamities of the siege. Javan, how- 
by the underplot of Miriam and ever, meets her every night at the 
J sv a n the conception and execution fountain of Siloe, to which she de- 
af which will form, we suspect, the scends from the city wall by an old 
laost lasting charm of the poem. The overgrown path-way in the rock, 
Pharisee leader, Simon, has two known only to herself and her sister, 
daughters, both young and beautiful — Here they interchange the renewal of 
the elder, Salone, of a high and en* their vows, but Miriam resists every 
thusiastic temper, loves, with all the importunity of her lover to flee from 
oriental warmth of imagination and the ruin-stricken city. He brings to 
passion, Amariah,a young Jewish hero, her a nightly offering of fruits, which 
is whom, along with her father, the she receives, for the secret solace of 
list hopes of the perishing nation arc her father after his fatigues in the 
centred. She sits every day upon daily battle — while, wasted and worn 
the ramparts of the city, her black out, she herself awaits in firm but 
locks thrown back from her front, and gentle submissiveness, that hour of 
devouring with her eyes the blase of doom from whose terrors she has no 
the perpetual contest, where the oath hope to escape. — We must quote the 
of her impetuous lover is marked by first introduction of these lovers, 
tenfold desolation. In the last night Tfie Fountain of Slloc— Night. 
of the siege, Abiram, a false prophet, 

commands, in the name of the Most Javan Alone. 

High, that the nuptials of this pair be Sweet fountain, once again I visit thee ! 

iinmediately celebrated, and the man- And ^ ou ** flowing on, and freshening sail 

date is listened to with applause by all The green hkjss, and the flowexs that l>end 

the assembled leaders, who still enter- MniW £ ^5.\ ^#v m «^-*a,i mmmm . 

tsina shadow of hope that the Messiah J™?* 17 *™. » ■* wibia^ mumw 

wu ■ mmwh *V* Y? 5 **»■■■* Rejoicing at the blessing* that thou bearcat, 

n about to make his appearance, and p^ stainless, thou art flowing on ; the stars 

smdleatthesnsjKtie«,thatthedamrb- Make thee their mirror, and the mowffiata 

ter of Shoes? and the bride of Anuuiah beams 


The Alt ofJtruHlmm 

Count ont another o*er dry Aver besom t 
And vmed men their hot and weary bfowi 
Slake with thy limpid and perennial coolness. 
Even with inch rare and singular purity 
Mov*st thou, oh Miriam, in yon cruel city. 
If en t eyes, o Yrweanod with me sights of 

With tumult and with grief, repeat on thee 
Ae on a refuge and a sweet refreshment. 
Thon canat o erawe, thou in thy gcntfcaiss, 

▲ trembhnffs Dale, and mdancholv maid> 
The brutal violence of ungodly men. 
Thou glidett on amid the dark pollution 
In modesty unstain'd, and heavenly in- 
Move lovely man the light of star or moon, 
Aa though delighted with their own reflection 
From spirit so pure, dwell evermore upon 
Oh! how dost thou, beloved proselyte 
To the high creed of him who died for men. 
Oh ! how dost thou commend the truths I 

teach thee, 
By the strong faith and soft humflitr 
Wherewith thy soul embraces them ! Thou 

And I, who pray with thee, feel my words 

And holier fervor gushing from my heart. 
While heaven seems mmjKim lrityl acceptance 

On the associate of so pure a worshipper. 
But ah ! why com*st thou not ? these two 

Even now our csty tammmi eft on 
Of utter ruin. Yet a night or two, 
And the fierce stranger in our bunungi 
Stands conqueror j and how the R 

Let Gischafa, let fallen Jotapata 
Tell, if one living man, one innocent cnM, 
Tet wander o T er their cold and scattar*d i 
They slew them, Miriam, the old gray i 
Whom blood scarce tinged their owoi 

(nay, turn not (mm me, 
The tears thou trhfiHtrt fed as though I 

wrung mem 
From mine own heart, my life-blood's dear* 

est drops)— 
They slew them, Miriam, at me mother** 

The smiling infants {—end the tender maid, 
The soft, the loving, and the chaste, like 

They slew her not till 

Afir. Javan, 'tis unkind ! 
I have enough at home of thoughts liketheae, 
Thoughts horrible, that freese the blood, 

and make 
A heavier burthen of this weary life. 
I hop'd with thee t* have pass'd a tranquil 

A brief, a hurried, yet still tranquil hour 1 
But thou art like them all I the miserable 
Have only Heaven, where they can 

long nights 

rvewatch'd for thee in vain, and have not fek 

The music of thy footsteps on my spirit ■ 
(Voice at a dutawee.) ■Javan 1 
Jwx It is her voice I the sir is fond of it. 

And enviously delays its tender sounds 

From the ear that thirtieth for 

■fetxM, Attrvewj. 
Jev. Nay, stand thus in thy timid bream- 

That 1 may gaie on thee, and thou not 

chide me 
Because I gam too fondly. 

Afir. Hast thou brought me 
Thy wonted offerings ? 

Jav. Dearest, they are here x 
The bursting fig, the cool and ripe pome* 

v granate, 
Hie skin all rosy with the eniprisoned wine ? 
AH I can bear thee, more than thou canst bear 
Home to the city. 

Mir. Bless thee! Ohmyntber! 
How will thy nunish'd and thy toU-bow'd 

Jtesume its native majesty ! thy words, 
When this bright draught hath slak'd thy 

parched lips, 
Flow with their wonted freedom and com- 
Jap. Thy father ! suH no thought but of 
thy fiither! 
Nay, Miriam ! but thou must hear me now, 
Now ere we part— if we must nart again, 
If my sad spurn must be rent from thine. 

Without being mocVd and taunted with 

their misery. 
Jav. Thou know'st it is a lover's way* 

ward joy 
To be reproadrd by her he loves, or thus 
Thou would** not speak. • • • 

On her return, the maiden sings a 
hymn, of which the following hem* 
tiful verses form a part They scarce- 
It shrink from a comp a rison with the 
divine Christmas hymn of Mttton— 
die lovely melody of which, indeed, 
has evidently been on the ear of the 

For thou wert born of woman ! 

Oh Holiest! to thbworldofam and gloom, 
Not in thy dread omnipotent amy f 
And not by thunders strewM 
Was thy tempestuous road i 
Norinujgnatkmburntbdoretheeon thy way, 
But thee, a soft and naked child, 

Thy mother undeued. 
In the rude manger laid to rest 
From off her virgin breast* 

The heavens were not rnmmandrri topee- 
A gorgeous canopy of golden ajr ; 
Nor stoop'd then* lamps th' enthroned 
fires on high s 
A single silent star 
Came wandering from afar. 
Gliding unchecked and calm along the feW 
quid sky; 
The hasten Sages leading on 
As at a kingly throne. 

M0.3 The Fall of Jerusalem. It? 

T o J^ tfa dr gpid an d odoort tweet as it binds together the whole aeries of 

Bete thy infant foot. events, and places the reader in the 

The Earth and Ocean were not huth'd to best position to snnrey the impending 

hear burst of ruin. The chamber or Ama- 

Bright harmony from every starry sphere ; riah is disturbed immediately after* 

Net at my jveacnce brake the votes of song wards, by the alarm that the Romans 

From ad the cherub chocs, have forced the wall, and that the tern- 

IW^SS^hil^^^t^eW^ P l ji» wrapped in immienchabkn^Ms. 

Oseans^toSp the strain began, in f ■■"««*»* the measure of the 

Ofau the race of man ^^ calamity, he returns only to bury his 

By ample stapherds heard alone, sword m the bosom of his bride, as 

That aoft Hessnna's tone. her sole protection from " the Gentile 

.,,.*,*, „ ravisher, ' and to wash away the pain 

*SS ^^ n ° ** of *** wound with *" la * burn k£ 

Tsbaarmeehence in lambent radiance 2!^^^^ J? 1 to ^^ 

^m^ . tial veil, and dies in the arms of Mi- 

Nor visible' Angels mourn'd with droop, fiam in the porch ; and ere lomr the 

mg ptomes : light of the conflagration shews the naif- 

Nera&stthou mount on high armed body of her husband stretched 

Tssm teal Calvary bloody by her side. At the moment 

Wat afl thi ne own redeem'd out bunting when nothing seems to be reserved to 

_ ft ™^ h S to ! nb, ' Jj . save the Christian maiden from the 

m £Z*«? hu^TSh common ruin, a Gentile soldier ap- 

nadyingftlciibythysidWtobe proachea her with a demeanour of mn- 

In Paradise with thee. expected gentleness, and in silence 

constrains her to follow him. He 

Ifetto dry csoss As clouds of vengeance fc^ her, half unconscious whither 

Aial.wWetheco^c^ earth did sh^e ^ $% °^ 

atAntMdasdbyhernercechu^rendoiie; "^J* **?** on *° *" JF** ** 

▲ saw dim hours of day an ^. thence down the path, with 

Iks wstid in darkness lay ; which she had supposed herself alone 

Iks tssett in bright repose beneath the to be acquainted, to the fountain of 

rhmnTess sun ; Siloe. She starts on finding that she 

Wljbthesj did* ikep within the tomb, is once more at that haunted scene; 

C snss fiting to thy doom ; and half suspects that Javan has as* 

Est yet the whjte-robed Angel shone ^^^ fa e disguise of a Roman soldier, 

Upon the sealed stone. and braved ^ dangers of the storm 

asdwfctnthea didst ex»e, thou didst not as a last effort for her protection. 

■t^ ^^^l j ju lljiij f rj f where but here—* 

Arises* the wotdstfpeace unto the frith- Not terwwj the fountain, not bytms lone 
M few petn. 

^Sawn^Sss^^ 0011 ^ 5^«5»ai. Thouhast hurried me along, 

In the inter*dwl2ch elapses be- Tnrou^klmg street, and over smoking 

tvcen the eommencement of Salon^s And yet there seem'd a soft sofidtude, 

MsJ-eong and the final alarm, Mi- j^d an officious kindnesi in thy violence-. 

ries, who is standing m her fathers But I've not heard thy voice. 
gste, meets with an old Jew, whore- Oh, strangely cruel ! 

coasts teller that he had been pre- Andwiltthou make meait even on this atone, 

eat when*€hrist was led to the crass Where I have sate so oft, when die calm 

-that he had mingled in the fierce _ . ™%*& A . ,. „ 

eateries ef the JewTagainst the Mes- Uy m ^etolier « the smmbarmg foun- 

*h-«id had heard with disown gh% whMt ^^ *,****** mm 

em the hat prophetic annunciation of with me, 

the doom which awaits the city. The oh Javan ! Javan t 

introduction of such a recital at that The Soldier. When was Javan csXMk 

moment, tbfww great art in the poet, By Miriam, that Javan answer** r*X * 

ISO The Fall of Jerusalem* CM*T 

Forgive me all my tears, my agonies. Of the far aanossary, every pcitie*, 

Idar'dnetepeekto&e*,le*thestroiMTJOT And every court, at ones, ceticentrated. 

Should overp o w er thee, and thy IccMc limbs As though to glorify and not destroy, 

Refuse to bear thee in thy flimc They burn, they b l a re 

Mir. Whsrshere? Look, Miriam, bow it stands ! 

Am I in heaven, and thou forehasted thither Look ! 

To welcome me? Ah, no! thy warfike garb, Miriam. There are men around us ! 
And the wild light, that reddens all the air, Javmu They are friends. 

Those shrieks— -and yet this could not be Bound here to meet me, and behold the last 

on earth. Of our devoted dty. Look, oh Christians I 

The sad, the desolate, the sinful earth* Still the Lord's house survives man's mUen 
AndtbimcouU*ftventuieamidn>eaoildeath, dwellings, 

Amid thy country's ruins to protect me, And wears its ruin with a majesty 

pear Javan ! Peculiar and divine. Stall, soil ft stands, 

J*o. *Hs not now the first time, Miriam, All one wide fire, and yet no stone hath fallrn 
That I have held my life a worthless sacrifice Hark ■ hark ! 

For thine. Oh t all these later days of siege The feeble cry of an expiring nation. 
Fve slept in peril, and I've woke in periL Hark- hnrk I 

For every misting I've defied die cross. The awe-struck shout of the imbimsling 
On whisk the Roman, m his merciless scorn, 

Bound all the sons of Salem. Sweet, I boast Hark—hark! 

not; It breaks-^ severs-^ tt^ the earth. 

But to thank rightly our Deliverer, The smotherM fires are quench'd in their 
We must know all the extent of his deliver- own ruins: 

ance. Like a huge dome, the vast and cloudy 
Mir. And I can only weep ! smoke 

Jao. Ay, thou thould'st weep, Hath cover'd alL 
Lost Zion's daughter. And it is now no more, 

Afir. Ah 1 I thought not then Nor ever shall be to the end of time, 

Of my dead sister, and my captive father— The Temple of Jerusalem !— Fall down. 

Said they not "captive" as we pass'd?— I My brethren, on the dust, and 

thought not The mysteries of God's wrath. 
Of Zion's rum and the Temple's waste. Even so shall 

Javan, I fear that mine are tears of joy; In its own ashes, a more glorious Tetnple, 

■Us sinful at such times— but thou art here, Yea, God's own arehitacttne, thk ve« world, 

And I am on thy bosom, and I cannot This fated universs---the same destroyer, 

Be, as I ought, entirely miserable. The same destruction. ■ Earth, Earth, 
Jons*. My own beloved 1 I dare call Earth, behold ! 

name, And m that judgment look upon mmeownf 

P * H *oT krthgbaitlMetoin *^* OMI1 The Chrfctian spectators then sing 
As we twoare, for solitary blessing, together the following sublime chorus, 
While the universal curse ia,pourd around ' which, as we have hinted before, com- 
as pletes, in the most felicitous manner, 
On every head, twere cold and barren gra- the whole of the tragic picture, by ex- 
ntude tending the interest of the catastrophe, 
Ta stifle in oar hearts the holy gladness, and carrying on the mind of the read- 
But, oh Jerusalem I thy resaani children er to the contemplation of the gnat- 

Oh, beauty of earth's cities! throned ****** "V*™* to any thing Mr 

queen Miknan ever has produced, and in- 

0f thy mU*>4owmg valleys 1 crownM with deed inferior in very little to any thing 

glory! we remember in the poetry either of 

The envy of the nations! now no more his English or of his German contem- 

A dty— One by one thy palaces poraries. When taken together with 

ridS f cnom ham bimight back tha cannot fail to impress our readers with 

To tfaeuuntimely terrible day. The flames ^th the brightest hopes concerning 

That in the Temple, their last proudest con- what he may hereafter aspire and dare 

quest, to execute. 
Nov gather all their might, and furiously, hym*. 

Like revellers, hold there exulting triumph. Even thus amid thv pride and loamy, 

Round every pillar, over all the roof, Oh Earth I shall mat last coming bunt on 
On the wide s^nmaus front, the holy depth thee, 


W90.] The Fall of Jerusalem. 131 

That secret coming of the Son of Man. Yes, 'mid yon angry and destroying signs, 

When all the chernb-throning clouds shall O'er us the rainbow of thy mercy shines, 

shine. We hail, we bless the covenant of its beam. 

Irradiate with his bright advancing sign : Almighty to avenge, Almighties! to redeem! 

When that Gnat Husbandman shall wave c u • *v i • * *t. r> 11 

Iri, ^ Such u the conclusion of the Fall 

foepog. Ha* chaff, thy wealth and pomp of Jerusalem— by far the most soaring 

away : flight that Mr Milman has ever bith- 

Sol to the noontide of that nightless day, erto sustained. As a master of the 

Saah thou thy wonted dissolute course main- high, serene, antique flow of lyrical 

JP™T_ declamation, we are free to say, that 

AJoog the busy mart and crowded street, we consider him as far superior to any 

The buyer and the tetter still shaU meet, living p^ . BXkd he 8hoi 5J ?ro(Lt b ' 

^TS^^ he ^^I >c ^ nms his pastexierience, by devoting him- 

8d1 to the pouring out the Cup of Woe; ,-*^ wywiuiw, uj w'«hu 8 uuu 

TOE«tli,VSunWTeelinitosndfto, self more to the we path in which 

And -yifin* molten byhisburning feet, nature seems to have ottered nun sue* 

And Heaven his presence own, all red with cess so pre-eminent. With regard to 

furnace heat. the drama, much as we admire Mr 

Milman's genius, we cannot say that 

The hundred-gated Cmes then, ^ entertain for him any so very san- 

The Towers and Temples, namM of men ^n* exnectations He is a noet 

EternaL and the Thrones of Kinss* Pr?f e *P^ llon8 - we w * I*** 

Thetfa^d«unmer pSZt^ ^^ TeSined > * nd wnetimc " ^s •P" 

The courtly bowers of love and ease, ceptions are profound; but he has 

Where still die Bird of pleasure sings : not ^ vet exhibited any proof of that 

Ask ye the destiny of them ? noble reliance on the simplicity of na- 

Go gate on fallen Jerusalem ! tural associations, without which we 

la, mightier names are in the fatal roll, cannot hope to see the slumbering 

feMt earth and heaven God's standard is spirit of the British stage hidden from 

aafiolM, its lethargy. Throughout the whole 

Tksfaasa»abflveUMlibabuniingsmlU f hiB dialogue, the language is rather 

^w^T^ '^ elaborately poetical, andartificially 

moulded, than inspired by the imme- 

01 ! who shall then survive? diate *&*& *» implies of the 

01! who shall stand and live ? passing scene. To qualiry, in some 

When all that hath been, is no more: measure, these remarks, it should, 

When Bar the round earth bung in air, however, be held in remem b rance, 

Wat all its constellations fair that the sacrediiess and dignity of die 

lithe sky's azure canopy 1 subject may perhaps have acted, in 

Whan fcrthetaathing Earth, and spark- the present instance, as a species of 

t ■— «* j*i -.u * 1. more than common restraint on the 

Afayddage, «nd without an Atk. morc of hls language- With every 

deduction the rigour of criticism can 

Lard of all power, when thou art there alone make > there still remains abundance 

0a thy eternal fiery-wheeled throne, of praise, which no one can refuse to 

That m its high meridian noon this performance. The highest com* 

Keels not the periah'd sun nor moon : pliment to the genius of the author is 

When thou ut, there in thy presiding state, to be found, not in the admiration ex- 

Wi ss st ipUt d Monarch o'er the realm of <&& b y any particular passage, but in 

WW ^^ \hm ~^A*rA. iw»« M -M. ^ dee P gn^ty and grandeur of the 

aaraistwontbT^ impression which the whole tenor of 

Its dead of all the am round thee wait: Jj|f V*™ is ^^^ to produce. 

and when the tribes of wickedness are strewn The Terror and the Pity which agi- 

Uk* fare* leaves m the autumn of thine ire: tate the mind throughout the earlier 

hssafel and True ! thou still wilt save parts of the drama are subdued and 

thine own I softened, in the closing scene, in- 

*" ^^t H ^ dwdU witbm A * unharm - tb a profound repose of humility and 

_ . "J!P™V • . ., Christian confidence; and he that 

'taaJ ^ *°^ Wooming every kyg down the ^hune will confess, 

E«nssfts*\ this stfll fountain's ride, ^t Mr MUman has, _in the first 

So shall the Church, thy bright and mystic ^its of his genius, oflercd a noble 

— " sacrifice at the altar to whose service 

s«0Qua«armys^aha]cvi»2Mofosim. he has devoted his life. 
V01. VJL K 

Tales of the Ooitter. V**Y 



From the perusal of " the Monastery," and the gratifying annunciation of an 
approaching sequel, under the title of " the Abbot," I was lately induced to 
turn back to a collection of Catholic legends already introduced to your no- 
tice— die " Frato Fiorito di varj Esempj"— and hare found it to contain 
(as might be expected) a great number of stories relative to the different 
monastic orders, calculated not more for the edification, of pious believers, 
than for the amusement of such infidels as may chance to have enrolled 
themselves among the "lovers of hoar antiquity," to whom, end to yourself, 
% shall make no apology for thus briefly introducing a few snecfcnens to their 

"— ' a practiser also, began to devise means 

talk ths first. to ge^y^ jjjg allegiance, or at least to 

u Of the terrible chance thai befell one deprive St Anthony of the glory of a 

who, with evil design, took upon conquest, by cutting short the days of 

himself the religious habit" the sinner before he should have lived 

• Marianua, in his Chronicle of the to extricate himself from the tolls of 

Ifinoritee, relates of a certain butty helium which he had hitherto remain* 

end wicked pemoo, whom we shall ed a willing captive. He* therefore, 

name Beniardin, that, after having infbsed into his ears a begjnning fas- 

ensussmed his snhstance> and wasted tidiousness of the religious life to which 

the fetter veers of his life in vsin and he had addicted himself end a ceev 

rioteas Hting, immersed in sin and tempt of the instroetioiie to which he 

innraky, under the gnidance of his had listened till he had almost yielded 

sovereign lord and master the devil* to the conviction they were calculated 

he was at length manced, by theeag* to produce; and, having thus infected 

ajcetiens of the seme terrible potentate, his mind with the desire of change, 

to seek admission into the order of he at last appeared before him one 

miner friars, for the express purpose day in the likeness of a beautiful 

of distarbing the peace and oontami* horse, ornamented, with the fairest 

nating thessoralsoc that holy brother- trappings, and furnished with every 

hoed. With this view he addressed accoutrement necessary to the equip. 

himself so St Anthony, who was then mentcf an honoorahk cavalier, whicsi > 

punching aft Fedna, and who, having when the false novice saw, as he issued 

erammfrt him teaching his preten- forth from his cell to cross a meadow 

ates, and finding him (at he thought) that lay between it and the refectory 

sufficiently apt for the sacred rano* of his monastery, he cast thereon an 

slaws of the profession, received him admiring and covetous eve, accounting 

seeordingly, sod afterwards perceiving it the best and most gallant steed that 

htm to hnieaome knowledge of human it had ever fallen to his lot to behold, 

sciences, constituted him a clerk, and Accordingly, finding himself alone and 

took upon himself the charge of pre- unobserved, he went up to the noble 

paring him, by his efficacious instruo* animal and began to caress him, from 
turn, and exhortation, to become a whence he fell to examine his harness 
earning light among those of the order and accoutrements, when, in a port- 
to which he had thus been admitted, manteau which was appended to the 
Bernardin, on his part, pushed hie saddle, he discovered a complete suit 
d humiliation to the utmost extremity, of armour, with rich vestments, suited 
in the semblance of devout humility to a person of honour and hard by a 
with which he listened to the saints purse full of golden coin. Benaraio 
teaching, while he secretly plotted the marvelled greatly at the sight, and be- 
destruction of that religion to which gan to conjecture who might- he the 
he appeared to be mamma a convert; fortunate possessor of such treasure, 
hot Satan, whose jealousy is ever a* whom he imagined, without doubt, to 
wake, and who began to entertain be some one among the honourable 
serious apprehensions lest the lessons knights of the vicinage. He did not, 
to which ne was a daily listener might, however, stop long in thinlring about 
in the end, prevail with him to become it, but soon threw off the religious 

1990.2 Ttdet of the Cloister . 133 

habit in which he was clad, and, re* rapture, he might win her and wear 

; mightily in harms so unex* her aa it lilted hhn. The damsel's 

ly frond that which he most consent to become the bride of so rich 

L, equipped himself speedily in and honourable a cavalier was gained 

those splendid arms, which fitted his with greater facility ; and suitable ar- 

poton sO exactly, that they appeared langements being made for the sub* 

to have been just fashioned, by some ceedtng nuptials, s chamber was pre* 

aasser tayior, for his expi css use ; as, pared forthwith, to which the ndse 

iasesd, true it was that the infernal monk retired with his mistress, little 

artificer had so prepared them. He loath to indulge him in anticipating 

men nnnf into the saddle right-glad- die sanction of a solemnity she knew 

h, and rone off as not as the willing not how ineffectual, 

essnur would carry him, with nothing It was already past midnight, when 

It check Iris hilarity but the appro- die devil, who had assumed the like* 

tasmn of meeting, on his way, with ness of a horse to hurry die wretched 

las true owner. Iiiis apprehension Bernardin to his destruction, put on 

Hy chcd away, as league after the human form for the purpose of 

vanished with unequalled ra- accomplishing his work, and disturbed 

from behind his tread — nor the slumbers of mine host (but not the 

able, in die swiftness of his repose of the lovers) by a loud and 

to keep any reckoning of the impetuous knocking at the door of the 

measured by him, until, to hostelry; which being at length open* 

an unatterable astonishment, he found ed by the landlord, he was immediate* 

aatself, at night-fall, before the ly interrogated by the unwelcome vi* 

sates of the town of Bourges, in Ber- sitor, whether it indeed was true that 

it, having traversed, since morning, he had, the evening before, given his 

sspaee which it would have taken any daughter in marriage to a stranger ? 

tat an infernal courser a week to per- mine host answered in the affirmative^ 

ins. He entered the town, ana a- whereto his new guest rejoined, " a 

Ighsed at an hostelry, where he com- blessed day's work hast thou done! 

Beaded a good supper to be set be- friend, with this marriage suing 

ssvhaai, which he ate with exceed- that thy most honourable son-in* 

jag good appetite. It chanced that law hath deceived thee, and be* 

waited on, at his meal, by a trayed and ruined thy daughter; 

of mine host, a very comely he being one of a religious order, 

rhose charms made such an and incapable of contracting marriage 

on the senses of this car- in any manner whatsoever ; whereby 

_J apostate, that he set about he hath done thee a grievous injury, 

how he might render them in despoiling the damsel of her chasti- 

_nt to his dishonest pleasure, ty, under false pretences. Weigh weO, 

aa supper was ended, he there- therefore, the consequences of this 

in sent for mine host, and began to rash deed, and resolve within thyself 

by before him certain proposals o£ not to endure the so great contumely, 

a nature as to offend even the which hath been thus cast upon thy 

aona spirit of him to whom they name and household, by s miserable 

addressed, and to draw from him apostate, who hath broke away from 

nhmdignaJitrerusaL Hethenchang- his cloister, and robbed a worshipful 

si hia tone, and offered marriage, knight of his horse and armour, to- 

vhieh was, in like manner, resisted, getner with a considerable sum of 

sjstQ ma ungoverned concupiscence, money, and now proposes to do the 

nbarnans; all the s ug ge s tions of hu- like to thyself, and to murder thee, 

■en prudence, as it had before stifled and take all that thou hast, and carry 

si nmejsdne; sense of religion, he dis- away thy daughter, whom, after ha- 

fkyed, to his greedy eyes, all the ving satiated hia carnal appetite, he 

as of his purse and portmon- will complete the measure of his vil- 

the eight of which finally lanies, by putting in like manner to 

it such a change in the send- death. Follow, then, my counsel, 

of the astonished inspector, as which I give thee ss a friend, and one 

te overcome aO the repugnance he felt who knows thee to be a man of worth, 

at the thoughts of delivering his be- Go up softly into the chamber, where 

fcwed daughter tothearms of a stran- he is now lying in bed with thy 

* that he mlmmtd in daughter, and where thou w\fe ma* 

134 * Tales of the OouUr. 

cover what I have tad to be the truth, retraced Mb steps, nidi intern tow 
by the clerical tonsure of his head; moo hia visiter to assist him in 
and, having satisfied thyself that it is ing the dead, according to his 
even as I hate reported unto thee, cat But, on descending to the place 
hia throat while -he lies sleeping*— in he had left him, to hia utter dismay^ 
doing which, thou wilt perform only he was not to be found. The xnm- 
an act of justice on a thief and asssa- chinationa of hell were already fulxmlL- 
sin—and one of self-defence, hia de- ed, and the guilty soul of the apoatate 
sign being (aa I have said,) to murder had no sooner escaped from his body, 
thee and thine, if not in due time pre- than it was caught by the expectant; 
vented. Thou mayest afterwards, demon, and carried away to the place 
with a safe conscience, possess thyself which had long been prepared for its 
of hia horse and armour, and rich ves- reception, in Gehenna. Mine host, 
tares, and money, aa a compensation not finding hia aatanic counsellor, bo- 
te the dishonour done to thy daugh- came terrified at the riak of discovery, 
ter, and fin: her marriage-portion with and hastened back to the fatal charm- 
some fitter husband. Neither needest ber, scarcely knowing what to do, oar 
thou fiear any evil consequences to fin* how' to bestir himself in this em ugcii» - 
low from this action, he being a stran- cy. Here his amaaement waa so- 
ger from a far country, and utterly doubled. The damsel, bathed in the 
unknown in all this vicinage ; and, for blood of her lover, lay still asleep im 
myself, I promise to keep the secret, the bed, unconscious of all that had 
ao that no man shall ever suspect what happened ; but the body of the false 
hath passed. Go, therefore— make no monk was there no longer, and, with 
delay, lest he awake before thy pur- his body had vanished his arms, bin 
pose be accomplished/' portmanteau and gorgeous habili- 
Mine host gave willing ear to this menta, hia purse, together with its 
devilish counsel of the arch enemy, contents, and every trace of all that 
and, full of rage and indignation at had passed, except toe dreadful stain of 
the thoughts of the dishonour he had murder which remained on the bed, 
sustained, thanked his 'new guest for and the wretched consciousness of her 
the advice he had given him, and beg- dishonour, to which the unhappy dam- 
ged him only to wait till he had finish- ael at length awoke, from that slum- 
ed the job, which he undertook to ber which she could fain have wished 
perform, even in the very form and to be eternal. The gallant courser, 
method according to his instructions, which had principally excited her la- 
in order that he might help him to there cupidity, had also disappeared 
bring the body when all should be ec- from the stable ; and the disappointed ' 
complished, promising him a part of landlord, after revolving in hia mind 
the spoil for his reward, in ao assisting the extraordinary circumstances which 
him. The devil, with good will, un- had happened, came to the conduaion, 
dertook to await his- bidding ; where* that it waa a trick of Satan, although 
upon mine boat, having provided him- wherefore, and to what end invented, 
self witha light, and being armed with a it passed hia comprehension to im- 
butcher's knife, well sharpened,mount^ agine. 

ed silently the stairs leading to the After a certain space, it chanced that 

nuptial chamber, where he found St Anthony himself passed through 

Bernardin and hia daughter asleep in the city of Bourges, on his pilgrimage 

each other's anna, aa the devil had of good works, and tarried a whue 

made him suppose, and detected, in with mine host, who became a con- 

the clerical tonsure, the full confirms- vert to hia preaching, and made to 

tionof all he had suggested to him. A him one day, a full and true confes- 

fresh access of rage at thia sight aion of the homicide, describing the 

nerved hia arm, and deadened hia form and features of the apostate 

heart to every feeling of repugnance, monk, in such a way, aa to bring dia- 

which the thought of assassination tinctly back to the recollection of the 

might otherwise have excited. In- holy father, the image of Bernardin, 

atantly waa the knife plunged to its hia late novice; after which, the good 

hilt in the throat of the miserable saint, with the permission of hia 

apostate, who died without a move- penitent, made the History of this mar- 

meat or a groan ; and, the. moment velloue event the subject of his pre- 

the deed was accomplished, mine host dication before the people, whereby 

1990.3 Tales of the Cloister. 135 

the hoots of many woe turned to one of his most brilliant falsettos, the 

piety. Howbeit, he nude rerelation devil honoured him with a visit in his 

to none, of the place where it had hap- own proper person, and actually took 

peaed, or the persons concerned, the him away in a tempest, so that he was 

sime remaining unknown to all men, never more seen by men.) 

until after the death of mine host and __. 
kti daughter, who both led holy and 

itbpous lives from that time forth, TALB THE THIRD - 

sad, in good time, were gathered unto Qfa Devout Monk, who was wrapt in 

task fathers, ecstasy by the singing of a Bird, and 

_^ so continued for many years. 

talk thb second. A marvelioixs thing truly is that 

jt * ** d i tr jl which is related by Henncus in his 

AI Z?/Zl1?? ' , ^ ^ " Speculum Exemplorum/' where he 

demlJmiM to s^ a certain young ^f^ how a ^^ ^'^ m(mk 

mmk, who delighted hmself t» hu T& ^ ng ^ ni?M m the ^ ^ 

*W' until matins, with the rest of his bra- 
in Abbot of Monte-Cassino, re- therhood, came to that verse of the 
kiss that, in his Monastery, there Psalmist where he saith, Mille anni 
hm cam a youthful monk, who pos- ante oculos tuos tanquam dies hesterna 
■eacd a rery sweet and delectable qua prateriit ; whereat he began to 
voice, but vain and effeminate with- ruminate, neither knowing, nor being 
si, in which he greatly prided him- able to comprehend, how die thing 
t& It happened one day, when it should be possible. After matins were 
fell to his turn, at some great solem- over, he remained in the choir alone 
airy, to chaunt certain antiphones and to make his orisons, as was his night- 
nspunst s in the church, that he dis- ly custom, and prayed to God with 
played in his chaunting, (with a de- tne utmost fervour, that he would 
aga to excite the admiration of the vouchsafe to reveal to him in what 
populace,) so many false graces and manner the above text of the anointed 
aaarishea, and such abominableaflkcta- prophet is to be interpreted. And, 
tioa, as, by Divine permission, to in- while he was yet persisting in this his 
ones the devil himself to come and devout and earnest meditation, be* 
saw him, which he did, appearing be- hold ! a bird of most beautiful plum- 
fire him in the form of an ugly black age entered, and began to fly about 
child, who made mouths at mm, and the choir ; at sight whereof the holy 
isntated all his contortions of voice brother was so ravished with delight, 
sad gesture, in a manner to excite the that he could not forbear from follow- 
ndkule of all the bystanders, exclaim- ing it, that he might the more fully 
tag, at the conclusion of his perform- enjoy the contemplation of its celestial 
saee, in the tone of fashionable admir- loveliness. The winged visitant from 
ation, (but withal laughing the while,) heaven (for such, undoubtedly, it was) 
" O bene! O cania bene Y Sing again seeing that his mind was so enchained, 
monk J afng again ! seeing thou art flew, first out of the church into the 
• excellent a singer,"— and so saying, cloisters, and thence into a wood be- 
dapped his hands, and reiterated longing to the monastery, which was 
"Encore ! with such extreme noise very extensive, the devout monk still 
mi violence, that the people assem- following wherever it led him, with 
Uel, from laughing, fell at length to marvellous gladness of spirit, being 
rrnasiiifl themselves, and dispersing ; entirely absorbed in the object of his 
till the crest-fallen performer, finding pursuit; and the bird often flew so 
khnself left alone, (for the devil him- near to him, that he might easily have 
self had also disappeared in the general caught it with his hand, if he had 
confusion,) could not choose but reflect been so inclined. At last it perched 
on the vanity which had exnosed him upon the branch of a tree, where it 
to such a severe humiliation; and began to sing a strain so divinely 
which consequently proved the cause sweet, that the monk was wrapt in ecs- 
of his great amendment. (A much tasy at the contemplation of its celes- 
worse punishment wss awarded to tial melody, and so remained until 
another monk, for the same fault of the angelic stranger, ascending into 
installing sacred music, by his vain the air, gradually vanished from hia 
■ecuto flourishes; far, st the close of sight, which was strained ui £oWaw\x\% 


13* Tale* tf the Chiller. O&f 

its flight, till it ooiild be dfeoerned tto to the mOtikreph^, that he morselled 

longer. Then* befog recovered from exceedingly at the gm singes of the 

his ecstasy, he pensively retraced his change which had been Wrought dm> 

etepe to the monastery* which he ex- ing that nighty in the abort apace since 

pected to reach before the hour of he had chaunted hia matins In com* 

C" ae, supposing that no longer apace pany with that aame abbot, and those 
elapsed since he waa first attract* Same monks, whose names he again 
ed by the object of his late contem- repeated. The abbot, then* meditntiinT 
plation, than from matina to that time, en what he had heard, called to mind 
when he reached the gate of the mo- the name of that holy father, and some 
nastery, he found it closed, and, knock- of those of the brotherhood, which he 
ing, it waa opened by a porter, whose had seen recorded in the annals of the 
face was unknown to him, and Who monastery; and who had all been dead 
inquired (as of A stranger) what he three hundred years, and were buried 
was, and wherefore be came tbithen in the cemetery. At the same tone 
The monk, stupified with astonish- the devout monk himself, from com- 
ment, answered, that he was the ea* paring the present state and atfttear- 
crlstan, and that he had gone out* ance of Ae monastery, which had Ifteen 
tiler matins, into the woods to pray* greatly altered smce Ae left it, tod the 
and waa now returned, hating finished change which had taken place in all 
his devotions. At this, the porter be* its inhabitants* with hia recollection of 
lieving that he waa out of hia senses* what had passed, was gradually brought 
(inasmuch as hia person waa wholly to the persuasion that he had, by the 
unknown to him, and hia vesture* al- Divine permission, been entranceddor- 
though that Which appertained to hia ing some long and uncertain period of 
order, very old and threadbare), asked time, whereof no account could be 
if he knew him?— to which the monk rendered. He then related to the ah* 
haying answered in the negative, the hot and all the monks (who were by 
porter rejoined, " knowest thou, then* this time assembled) the circumstance 
Who is abbot of this our monastery, of that heavenly bird, and of bis ecs* 
who is the prior, and who the eel* tasy, and of the conte m plation he had 
later?'* The monk replied that he well enjoyed of its dirme melody, and bow 
knew them all, naming by their names* he had been led thereto by that verse 
each and every one of them, in order, of the Psalm above-mentioned; from 
together with all the other brethren of all which it fully appeared, that he 
the monastery who were his contem* had remained so entranced during the 
notaries, hot doubting that they were whole of the aforesaid space of three 
aU equally known to, die inquirer, al- hundred years, without tasting earth* 
though he were himself a stranger to ly nourishment. So, when he had 
htm. But the porter only shook hia made an end of relating what had be* 
head, thinking mmself confirmed in alien him, the abbot and monks, one 
the opinion he had begun to entertain, by one, embraced him, with many 
and the monk waa more and more tears, andmuohoosnoktoryreneetion, 
sjsfcmtBhed at his apparent ignorance* looking upon him as a thing rather of 
At last, he demanded admission to the heavenly than of human nature, inaa* 
fitther abbot, to whose cell the pot* much as all that he spoke seemed to 
tar conducted hhn accordingly; out, be of divine purport, and such as 
when he entered, hia amazement was miraculously to inspire his bearers whh 
beyond measure i nc r ea s e d, on seeing de voti onal rapture, Soon afterwards, 
the seat of hia holy fitther occupied the holy brother, having received all 
bv one an entire stranger to him, who the sacraments, piously r en dere d back 
(having been informed by the porter his soul to the iiod, and departed that 
or what had passed at the gate) ad* he might enjoy in heaven, through sH 
dressed him by asking who he was, eternity, that angelic melody, whereof 
and whither he waa bound, and what a foretaste on earth had been so mar* 
were that abbot, and those monks* vellouaiy aflbrdsd unto him* 
whose names he had uttered. Where* 

10D/J flf-Fuliing t» NotikumierlamL 137 


«* Pay, &v, by your good favour, do yon call, fir, 

Your o ca i yalhii m nuneiy ? 
Ay, Sir, a migtery " ■ 


»* XDiTOa, 

1 awm* of garrulity ssema to be tha under Amwick-bridge, and half the 
■Mega of anglers. From old Isaac town witnessed the death. What a 
Mam fa print, down to my old ore* moment ! No angler, in each a tori- 
MBUr ha propria persona, a kind of umph, w<>uld have dunged places vsith 
■aw flaaaij, like one of those de-> the duke whose towers overlooked the 
a^atal deep streams that glide on so scene of action. Far months after, as 
a^awgry yet ao gently, and the surface I have been told, in all companies of 
afwhuV when free from "curl" dur- piscatory admixture, the fly was in«* 
m ate uaerniiaaiona of the breeze, ia quired for, and exhibited, with the 
m fftasamntly dimpled with quickly cWacteristic introduction ofc— " This, 
■nsifitinjr eddies, seems to be the lot gentlemen, is the little fellow that did 
at atswa who have spent many a happy the deed." I seldom, for obvious ree- 
bav bb this best of sports. With us, sons, use this rod— but let not its an- 
fa aVoulty of fighting our battles o'er ttoue mahion cast any doubt on ite ex- 
it is deveaoped in full perfection— eetlence. It ia a real fly-rod— none of 
aotkeaeo the power of anticipating your top-heavy things, such as I have 
ami^ty approaching events which seen in the land of Cockaigne— (all the 
awgiers) cast their ahadowa so for ending ideas of which celebrated place, 
a. I know, that at the moment I thank Heaven, I have been so well 
I am waiting Cheviot ia two feet deep brought up aa utterly to despise)— 
sjamew, and the cairns on the sum- lumbering, awkward, and stiff; and 
asm of the Simonside-ridge invisible ; which might possibly do to " troU m 
ye) thai hardly a jot abates the ehs- for pike, if they would do for any 
sjky of feeling with which I eontem- thing.— -But I must begin my narra- 
the ten to be performed on the tfve, and in some form. 
sing season, or recall the par* It was with this rod in my hand, on 
of those I am about to dilate a fine morning on the 86th May, that 

I set out with my friend R— from 
fa the details of angling there is a the village of Harbottle, to which we 
am which only anglers know ; had walked from Rothbury the even- 
I believe the beat mode of con- ing before, towards Shilmore, where 
the few remarks I have to we were to commence the day's sport. 
WEI be to give a sketch of an The morning, however, waa one of 
ion made last year to Harbottle those that, to the experienced eye, be- 
st" the Coquet, in company with a token the probability of too much sun 
sHMbl and intelligent friend. If the and too little wind. Cool as the at- 
ntetanus shall chance to turn out to mosphere was, we began to feel the 
kaaare IuHwring than the facta, it beams bef ops we reached the Wedder- 

enlonlyahsw that my theory is more loop. The Coquet here, for the space 

ssnVt thein my practice— -a thing very of a couple of hundred yarda, appeara 

sawahaa, ooneJoering the many fireside to have literally bored and scooped a 

m was! ao waterside lectures which my way through the granite barriers to its 

ao waterside lectures which my way through the granite barriers to its 

tatsr gave me. "Peace be to his ashes ! progress. At the Wedder-loup, aa it 

" oat of the most accomplished is called, the stream may be stepped 

re Northumberland ever pro- with a tolerably easy stride. This, 

I picemw a light rod of his— however, is rendered somewhat awful 

am of those old-fashioned black rods, by the gulf just below the pass, into 

si two peeeee— with as much venera- which the river rushes with a trilling 

ism aa your countrymen can do the fall ; and where, from its depth, the 

d ayufco e* of Robert the Bruce. waters seem, even in the clearest wea- 

whh this rod, and a common trout- ther, of a dark brown, almost black 

ta, he once killed a salmon upwards colour. Above this pass, the hills for 

af eighteen pounds weight it wmm the most part come down to tta n%» 

13d Ply-Fishing in Northumberland. t&*T 

\at% edge— tlie oourae of the river pre- system of fly-fishing being of any «a- 

sentinglrat few of thcee beautiful and perior utility, I, for one, beg to de- 

comparatively fertile " haughs," the dare my utter scepticism. Were I to 

common ornaments even of the wildest adopt any complicated theory of chang- 

streams. We soon reached the ut- fag flies, it should rather he that of 

most point of our destination, where interpreting dreams contradiction- I 

" Coquet at ShSmore did embrace his Ouse, am of the action of your c o rrespo n dent 

As bong near akin to his fiur spouse ; from Aberfoyle. Over and oyer again 

For Usway is a Kidlander by biruY»— - fare I killed trout, and seen trout 

Marriage of tht Cop* a*dAlwi*c kffled, with a flyas difRawtrhirn that 

It would be useless to describe to upon the water as night is from day, 
anglers, and impossible to those who and this not infrequently at the very 
are not anglers, the eager, almost pal* moment when the water-fly was Hut- 
pttating sensation, with which even tering cross the pool in perfect sc- 
old fishenbegm to arrange their tackle corky from attack. This opinion is 
at the waterside. She was in tolerably now so general, that there is scarcely 
good trim— a little too clear for a clear a Northumberland fisher, perhaps* who 
day ; and the wind blowing gently does not make black and red nies the 
from the south, shewed, as the morn- foundation, at least, of his tackle, 
ing advanced, symptoms of dying a- The red is ccckshackle-body, with a 
way. Having agreed, however, to pass woodcock-wing— the black, green plo- 
eacn other after every three streams, ver's tuft, with a light starhngVwing 
we set briskly to work, at about three feather. Many a wager, weight against 
quarters past eight, fishing down the weight, has my old master won fish- 
nver. ing with plain black and red. I have 

I soon found that they fought shy, certainly deviated so flu* from this 
and that it was necessary to fish very plan as to put on a third ex perimen tal 
" fine and far off;" ana when we re- fly ; but I cannot say that tne results 
joined to hold a council of war be- have produced in me any greater re- 
tween ten and eleven, we found that spect for those Martinet*, who glory 
our fish were few, and not large— and in a catalogue of flies as long as the 
that, as the sun became more meri- army-list. I must own, I am never 
dian, the chances of immediate sport so convinced of the truth of the " /»- 
evidently decreased. We began to y faGxm /uy* iumi," as when I 
look rather black, and to think that see a huge fishing-book, containing 
this was to be worse than " the woful feathers and furs of greater variety of 
Wednesday of the Wreigh-hill," a hues man Joseph's coat ever exhibited, 
traditionary day of disaster in Coquet- The grand fault of the fly-fishing of 
dale. I saw that, under the circum- this district, and of Coquetdale in par- 
stances of the case, it was lost labour ticular, is the propensity to an exclu- 
to fish the streams, the trout in them sive preference of the streams. This, 
rising shyly, and these little better no doubt, arises chiefly from their 
than " pipeheads," as the small fry abundance and beauty; and also from 
are technically termed. The only the circumstance of the trout of the 
chance of any diversion was to wait Coquet being for the most part only 
for the breese, and, during the pre- of middling size, which description of 
valence of the " curl" upon their but- fish is generally to be found in great- 
face, to fish the pools, keeping as much est numbers in the streams ; but an 
as possible out of sight, and using the accomplished pool-fisher will find his 
finest flies. In this service I employ- account in exercising his art here, 
ed some dressed for me by your cele- Large fish, though comparatively a 
brated Rawson of Prince's-street, put- little rare, are yet to be had in every 
ting on, besides my usual estabBsh- part of this river, and especially in 
ment of " black and red/' a brown the neighbourhood of that refoarkable 
fly, woodcock- wing, and hare's-foot- rocky pass, the Thrum at Rothbury, 
body, I think, with a single turn of where trout from eighteen to twenty- 
tinsel, recommended to me by that four inches long have frequently been 
experienced artificer. taken. In the vicinity of lakes, where 

Many anglers, I know, will toss large fish are common, the native ang- 

their heads at the phrase, " usual es- ler, in a certain degree,* despises the n- 

tablishment of black and red." Let ver-trout, and fishes pools rather than 

them do so. As to the representative streams, with a view to sise and not 

1890/] Ffy-Fiskimg in Northumberland. 139 

tonmber. Oaring a day's fishing in puff of wind blew, success became ab* 

tat riier of St John, I observed that solutely certain, 

ay guide, Heweteon of Keswick, I now began to feel the strap of my 

(whom, by the bye, I would recom- " creel" gall my shoulder. I shifted 

■sad to all lakers as an excellent pis- it ; paused ; looked at the joints of 

estory Cicerone,) was exclusively in- my rod, and the barbs of ray hooks ; 

tent upon the " dubs," as he called and set to again, biting my up, with 

them. an elation— a healthful bounding of 

In the continued discouraging pos- the spirit, which every angler has felt 

ton of our afihirs, R— - and I de- with more or less of intensity. The 

tnrined that (after having taken a vicissitudes of fly-fishing are amusing 

slight luncheon, with a taste of some- and frequent, from the delicacy of the 

tUng which even the ensign himself means depended upon. I was just 

mid have pronounced palatable) he about to pass R— — , who was fishing 

sWoid spend an hour in trying mm- a long " slack," when a trout, of from 

•*», whilst I lay bye for a httle. fourteen to sixteen inches, and another 

He ianot a minnow-fisher con smore, of smaller dimensions, took his flies, 

nd only succeeded in raising and nearly at the same moment. He soon 

booking four or five good sized trout— began to find he hod something on his 

n I wish we had our friend who was hands. He was on the brae, or steep 

km lest week."— Better help could side of the water. His rod bent 

ut have been desired, for I believe shrewdly, and, after a little play, it 

he pie eminence, as a minnow-fisher, was evident that the prudent way was 

■known on the Coquet, from Thirle- to cross the water, and land them on 

to Warkwortn. He generally the shelving side. He had moved up 

np the stream, pitching the as far as he could to avoid slackening 

m with a long line, and an al- the line, and was just taking the 

levietion of fall quite unusual, and plunge, as easily as possible, into a 

keeping oat of sight of his game with rather awkward depth, when the hook- 

SMOwuled management. Every rain- ed trout, making a violent lurch, as 

~ "icr has a favourite arrangement sailors call it, the " slip-line," which 

I, and infinite are the combi- was old, gave way, and with it went 

of hooks, from two, even up fish, gut, and flies. The Miseries of 

t» eight. — My friend, I believe, pre- Angling, with wood- cuts by Bewick, 

fcrs simplicity ; and, for the deeps, (who is himself a keen fisher) would 

tses only a single long-shanked hook, he a pretty work. It is unnecessary 

The nsrb is brought out at the head to give the details of the sport that 

of the minnow, the hook being inserted followed. The fish became more shy 

sVont the Mi^ll*, and part of the shank again towards six o'clock, when, upon 

left untied, to steady the tail, which comparing notes, each found he had 

©vers it. This metnod may certainly got as many as he could conveniently 

be 0000% inasmuch as the trout always carry, having yet to return two miles 

dashes at the head of the bait. A good or more upon none of the best of 

deal of time however must be given. tracks. 

It wsj now getting towards four As R— was slipping on the last 
o'clock, and the aspect of the day had leather which bound together the 
ikmngmA materially. A fresh breeze, pieces of his rod, we were approached 
from the west, " curled" the faces of by some one with rod ana pannier, 
the pools at intervals ; the small fly apparently bent upon the same sport 
left on 7 " flirting and rising ;" the sun that we had been. He was an old 
became shadowed with passing clouds, man, but his firm step, amongst the 
sad we marked one or two large fish loose shingles, sun-burnt face, and dis- 
like the water-fly decidedly. The tinct voice, proved that his strength 
Coqaet is what is here, not unhappily was not in accordance with his years. 
termed a " petted water," the " seed'' « A stalwart Tinklsr wight was he, 
gsesralry coming on and going off with That wed could mend a pot or osn, 
ssost oapricious suddenness. The sport An* deft] j Wall could thaw sfiea, 

however, now commenced in a way I ** ***J w « v « ? c J riD ? w TEr'L, 
save not often seen-at least, notso I*y qf the Reedwater Mtotrd— 

often aa I could have wished. Whe- He wss in clogs, coarse grey jacket, 
the? on pool or stream, whenever a and flapped hat. It was Ned Allan 
Vol, F|L 9 

140 Fly-Fuking in Northumberland. £Mfty 

the weaver, a namesake of the Wull which he followed up an unsuccessful 
alluded to in the stanaa. " Guid day blow. Once, in the very tempest and 
to ye, Gentlemen.*' " Good day, what whirlwind of his passion, pursuing a 
sport?" <( I've deun gay cannUy the large eel down a pool, he fairly kvel- 
uterneun," (opening his pannier), led with the ground, or rather water, 
u So have we ; we're going down to an old acquaintance of mine, who had 
Harbottle" — " Surely. — Ye 11 be stop* not got out of the way in time. Luck- 
pin at Tommy Commons I reckon ?" ily, however, the leg was not touched 
" Yes, and if you stop there, you by the points of the five-toed leider, 
shall not want a glass after your day's which Allan was nourishing and 
work— What sort of fishing is there be- launching with incredible activity, 
tween this and Rothbury ? — We fish " Linny Wunters ! ye sud ateud far- 
down to-morrow." — " Tnank ye kind- ther aff, man !" was all he said, in his 
ly— ye maun begin below the Squire's rapid smothered voice, still following 
Preserve, ye ken, and fish down by . up the devoted eel. It died at the 
Halystaen, and there away, an' I bottom of the pool, and with it, Ned's 
warrand ye'U come on gaily. — They've irritability, who then came back with 
no netted here yet the year/' — " Net- a face of real concern to inquire into 
ted !" to cut short all intermission — the mishap. 

we learned from Ned, that it was the We soon dined ; and, taking ear 

annual custom of a great man in this bottle up the hill behind the publie- 

rter, to sweep the nettable parts of house, we arranged our artificial moths 
Coquet to a large extent. I am for half an hour's sport in the twi- 
(I trust) an orthodox church of Eng- light, sitting amongst the ruins of die 
land man, with as much zeal for her castle. Round the wooded eras on 
usages as generally falls to the lot of which they stand, the Coquet boils 
a layman ; but I must confess, I never, impetuously over a fine rocky channel; 
in my life, felt ray dislike to popery so and here we drank " better luck still/* 
strong as at that moment. Nor can and talked of the fishing in Reedwa- 
it "sink in my head," that because ter, over which the sun was then he- 
ft stream runs through a corner, or forms ginning to decline. This was a proli- 

a boundary of a man's estate, he has nc theme for R , and would have 

therefore an equitable gentlemanly outlasted another bottle — if we had 

right to destroy the fish by wholesale had one. 

for seven miles round. A few years .. Swect Re ed f smce I lort the lovM sound 
ago, another worthy chose, by way of 5 rfSrfrer? ™" 

variety, to put pike into the river ; My ^n^t f life has run darkly and wild, 

bat this scheme, luckily, was as absurd But still in mem'ry, as freshly as ever, 

as it was illiberal. Who, " in the Are the charms of thy vale, at in spring- 
name of fresh cod," would expect these time they smird ; 

destroyers to thrive, in a stream that Andmo'nowmvwmteriicoinmgupcnme, 

hardly has a weed in it from the source Oh ! how would it thrffl me to gaxs on met 

to the sea. He might as well have put T ^flL w mrtmtm ^ j^,,,, *^ 

in lobsters, but even this would not To "^^^ mmm rf ^ emn ** 

have been quite original To say the AnA fcel racc ^ whkt t ^^^ ^n 
truth, we have made little progress m 

Northumberland in improving the It is now, I believe, high time to 
breed of our fish. The little river conclude; yet a word or two before 
Pont possesses a stock of remarkably we go, on the tendency to cruelty, of 
fine trout, which, when dressed, cut which our recreation is accused by 
as red as any lake-trout I ever saw — certain refined and accomplished per- 
mit no attempts have been made to in- sons. This is a heavy charge, and 
troduce them elsewhere. what provokes one most is, that it 
Having supplied Ned with some comes chiefly from the mouths of 
silk- worm-gut, we left him, and made what are called well educated people, 
the best of our way to a late dinner. These ladies and gentlemen most 
This old man was, in his day, famous always pass for great authorities ; and 
for being the most expert eel-spearer very properly so, inasmuch aa they 
of all Coquet-dale. It was, as I have can lay you down the common-place 
often heard, a treat to see the admi- mode of thinking upon almost every 
rable skill with which he struck, and subject (angling amongst the rest), 
the still more surprising energy with after the manner of that highly useful 

in Northumberland. 141 

idable compendium, a Pocket ing under" this or that? Nay, the 

ipcdia. I have no room for etymological meaning of the very word 

ned argument, nor, on this oc- indolence is the negation of grief ! 

is it much needed. Be it suf- Whatever helps to wean us from this 

to say, that the pleasure of aversion to action is eminently useful 

, like that of many other pas- Let all sons of sentimental mothers, 

depends principally upon that and nephews of blue-stocking aunts, 

• excitement which the play remember this— especially if they be 
ices always affords. In audi- of weak digestion, or inclining to the 
this, it possesses more than any ricketty. Let them prefer the smooth 
port, the delight inseparable green margin and speckled inhabitants 
imuita which are followed a- of the stream, to the baize and ivory- 
nral scenery'. The death of fish of the card-table. Let them adopt 
rnals pursued is as much as the fishing-rod, and after a hard day s 

• kept out of sight, and, ex- work in " the shallow rivers, by whose 
as far as it is connected with fells melodious birds sing madrigals," 
pture, rather detracts from the which Sir Hugh Evans seems to have 
an'a satisfaction than other- been so fond of, they may amuse them- 
[t is with no unmixed feeling selves with the paper against angling 

are sometimes startled by the by Mr Leigh Hunt, whose notion of 
; of a large trout, recently put it is about as correct as his idea of a 
r pannier. The objectors to Northumberland trout-stream, which 
do not pretend to say, that fish he draws from the Serpentine River, 
to be killed for food, and, al- or of a Scottish or Cumberland lake, 
this, they allow every thing, which he imagines to be something 
t, I repeat, in the actual death very like the canal in St James's Park. 
lab that we delight ; and we After fishing six miles of water, let 
that they suffer no more pain them smile at the Cockney suppoei- 
tken by a fly or minnow, than tion of angling dispensing with loco- 
btsined by night-lines, nets, motion; after lugging home six dozen 
ad ooculus indicus, the means of trout, let them laugh at the " Print- 
to by the licensed purveyors er," and his " glorious nibble ;" and 
seed sentimentalists, who " sit when they read about the dreaming 
men's feasts, and wipe their patience of anglers, let them, if they 
sears that sacred pity hath en- please, get out of all patience. But 
i/* let no sportsman keep a conscience to 
love of field-sports has not be alarmed by shallow, sickly, senti- 
planted without a reason. We mentalities, more mawkishly insipid 
nently injured by the omission than a bad fie, and not worth a fig 
eiaa— hardly ever by its use. either good or bad. — Wishing you, Mr 
healthful labour, still passes North, much sport this season, I am, 
rfl. Do we not talk of taking &c. D. T. 
and trouble" and of " labour- Newcastle, March 1, 1820. 


Continued from voL VI. page 976. 

of the death of Robert, Duke that our Lord Jesus Christ, who will- 

trmandy, eldest son of the Con- eth that none should perish, had 

r. 1 134. given ample leisure of repentance and 

fear 1134, the Empress Matil- humiliation unto Duke Robert— to 

ght forth a son, whom she wit, a thirty years space of seclusion 

Geoffrey. On which account from the things of the world in im- 

mry passed over into Norman- prisonment — he, the said duke, never- 

l there tarried for joy of his theless, abused the grace of God, swell- 

■M- About the same time ing with pride, and giving vent to the 

sop of Landaff, and Gilbert, spirit of detraction, and malediction, 

sTLondon, died on their way and complaint, when he had far better 

e. In the same year, after have submitted himself to the dm\& 

148 EMtracUjhm Matthew M, C**y 

will, with obedience and earnest tup- person. When the King wu tafbrm- 
plications, as is befitting to one long ed of his death, he was little grieved 
afflicted and already advanced in thereat, but ordered tile corpse to be 
years ; and whom it would hare be* interred with honour in the convents* * 
eonte rather in tears to hate said, al church of Gloucester. At thin time 
" Deservedly do I suffer these things, also the Empress, daughter of the 
yea, even heavier sufferings have I King, lay in great extremity of denser 
merited, who, when in the Holy in consequence of her difficult cftuJd- 
Land, shook off from my neck the birth ; but, being a prudent matron, 
yoke of the Lord, which is pleasant) distributed with a liberal hand tier 
end his burthen, which is light, and treasures among widows, orphsua*, 
obstinately refused the high privileges churches, and monasteries, and ae> eaw 
which Heaven offered unto me." No- caped the peril of death, 
thing like this was heard to proceed — 
out of the mouth of that arrogant man. The Battie *f the Standard. 11S3. 
Kow it hapnened upon a certain festi- While King Stephen was fully oo- 
Val, when the King, (who was aceus- cupied in the southern parts of the 
tamed courteously to send fbr his bro- kingdom, the King of Scots led a very 
tiler's use cloth of the same sort that numerous army into Northumberland, 
Bis own robes were made of* when* which the northern nobles, following 
ever he himself put on a new one,) the command and admonitions of 
deafened to dad himself in a new Thuratan, Archbishop of York, end 
scarlet gown, meet for the occasion, having planted the royal standard at 
that} in trying to put the hood over North Allertoh, vi g orou sl y opposed, 
his head, he found it was made too The chief of those who were thus en- 
narrow, and a single stitch gave way gaged, were William Earl of Albev 
In the trial, upon which, laying it marie, William Earl of Nottingham, 
aside, he said, " Let this be sent to Walter le Espeke, and Gilbert de 
my brother, fbr his head is smaller Lacy. The Archbishop being pre- 
than mine." But, when the gown vented by illness from attending in 
was brought to Duke Robert, he un- person, sent in his stead Ralph, bishop 
luckily discovered the broken stitch, of Durham, to animate the people, 
Wliich had escaped Unnoticed through Who, taking his station in the midst 
the inattention of the taylor, and had of the army, upon a commanding spot, 
never been sewed up. Upon which addressed them with the following 
the duke said, " Whence came this exhortation. " Renowned English 
fracture ?" And, when the messenger Chieftains of the race of Normandy, 
had related to him exactly all that had which hath made the power of France 
occurred, the duke, like one deeply to tremble before its standard — ye by 
Wounded, exclaimed in his rage, " Woe whom England was made captive and 
Is me ! woe is me ! Seeing that 1 have humbled, under whom the rich land 
lived too long already, why should I of Apulia has attained new emhv. 
drag out this miserable life any far- ence, and to whom the famous Jeru- 
ther. Lo ! even my brother, he, who salem and thrice noble Antioch, have 
hath so traitorously supplanted me, both subjected themselves ; Scotland, 
being younger by birth than I am, which is your own by ancient sub- 
and a lazy clerk also ; who hath un- mission, now endeavours to repel you 
justly seated himself on my throne, with the arms of sudden invasion, 
and thrust me into a dungeon, and better suited to idle brawls than seri- 
deprived me of Bight — me, who have ous conflict. Let it, therefore, be no 
obtained so much glory by deeds of cause of fear, but rather of shame, 
arms — now holds me so cheap and that they whom we formerly sought 
vile, that he hath sent to me, as to his out and found in their own country, 
prebendary, or beadsman, his old and and conquered there, have now (mad 
unstitched garments, by way of alms- and intoxicated) changed die scene of 
giving." And, thus exclaiming, he action, and dare to affront us on this 
fell withal into an extreme passion of soil of ours. Now this, as your spi- 
tears and lamentation, and vowed that ritual leader, I announce to you, being 
he would eat no more ; nor would he by divine providence ordained ; that 
ever again either eat or drink, but ac- they, who have in this realm violated 
tually suffered starvation, so furious the temples of the most High* have 
was nis blind rage against his own polluted nis altars, and slain his priest, 

100.3 Extracts from Matthew Paris. * 1 43 

ad have spared neither children nor broken like the web of a spider, per- 
ianal with child, are doomed within iahed and melted awaj. Which the 
tee same to pay the fit penalty of their main body of the Scots, while fighting 
atrocious actions. Raise up . your hard on the other side, beholding, fail- 
Binds, therefore, ve gentlemen of ed in courage, and betook itself to 
England, and go forth, under the flight without delay. But the king's 
auspices of the all-knowing God, to guard, which he had formed oat of 
crash your invaders, doubting no- the men of divers nations, as soon as 
thing. Your bosoms are guarded by they saw this, began to fly, at first 
the breast-plate, your heads by the step by step, afterwards in confusion ; 
helmet, your legs by the greaves, and which the friends of the king behold- 
your entire body by the warlike ing, forced him to mount nis hone 
shield; nor can the enemy find a place and fly. In the mean time his son, 
unc o vered, whereon to strike. Why like a courageous commander, not at 
t h ere fo r e do ye hesitate, like men de- all minding the flight of others, and 
toad of courage ? But even while I eager only for glory, made a violent 
yet apeak, the enemy, rushing on us, attack on the host of the enemy, al- 
pnt an end to my speaking. They though his forces were by no means 
come in disorder, like a host of tu- able to resist heavy-armed horsemen, 
■vinous barbarians; and the sight is But at length, by the force of die 
Blessing to me. If any of you, then, armed men, they were fain to attempt 
should fall, fighting for his king and a flight less annoying than resistance, 
country, we here absolve him from and were disgracefully dispersed in 
all the consequences of sin, in die the woods. It is said, that eleven 
name of the Father, whose creatures, thousand Scots were slain, besides 
in faith, these invaders have most those who were found mortally 
horribly slaughtered — of the Son, wounded among the standing corn 
whose altars they have denied— and of and woods ; while our men had a glo- 
me Holy Ghost, whose grace they rious victory, almost without shedding 
have, by their enormous crimes, set at of blood. Among all the horsemen, 

Might and despised." Whereto the a brother of Gilbert de Lacy alone 

whole multitude of the English people was found slain. This battle was 

thsre euoembled made response, and fought in the month of August, by 

At hills and mountains reverberated the men of the provinces north of 

a\s*eau Humber. 

Then the Scots'Highlanders, hearing 

IBS deatoour, get up a loud shout, after What things happened to Thomas of 
the Manner of women ; but their Canterbury, on a Tuesday. 

and clamour were soon lost in We know not by what chance it fell 
of the strife, and the dreadful out, that many wonderful things hap- 
together of the conflicting ar- pened to St Thomas on a Tuesday. On 
The men of Lothian, who had Tuesday, that is the day of St Tho- 
with dUBaulty obtained from the king mas the apostle, he was born, on ac- 
me hono u r of striking the first blow, count of which he was named Thomas 
with a power of arrows and very long in baptism, according to a vow made 
spears furiously fell upon the heavy by his mother. And he, fortunately, 
armed English cavalry, who presented entered into the world on the day de- 
to their assault, as it were, a wall of dicated by the heathens to their god 
hen, firm and impenetrable. But the Mars, as one destined to fight battles 
EmgHeh archers, mixed with the horse- against the devils ; inasmuch as Mara 
men, raising a cloud of arrows over is, according to die poets, called the 
tile Scots, pierced those who were un- god of wax. For the whole life of the 
armed, on whom they lighted. For blessed St Thomas, according to those 
the whole host of English and flower words in Job, " The life of man is a 
of Normandy, forming a circle around warfare upon earth," — was a continu- 
the ataudard, remained immoveable, ance of war against the enemy. On a 
o) though immoveable; and the leader Tuesday he also suffered ; and on a 
ef the toen of Lothian being pierced Tuesday he was translated : So that 
with an arrow, his whole band was the day which conferred on him hia 
ilinojHTisUlj put to flight. For the greatest glory, was also the cera of bis 
toft* Ugh God was displeased with passion. On Tuesday the nobles eat 
ts», wherefore aH tmeir power, at Northampton and revfteA Yum \ tav 

1U Extracts from Matthew Paris. £May 

Tuesday the Lord appeared to him at Item, Whatsoever laymen may ha?e 

Pontine, saying, " Thomas, Thomas, given during their lifetime, or alienat- 

my church shall he glorified in thy ed by whatsoever title, although they 

blood ;" also, on Tuesday, he return- may be said to have been usurers, shall 

ed from banishment ; and on Tuesday not be revoked. But what goods be 

he gained the palm of martyrdom. It found at their death unalienated, if 

also happened, beyond human fore- they be proved to have been usurers 

sight, by the peculiar providence of at the time of their death, shall be 

God, that on the same day of the confiscated. 

week, many years afterwards, the bo- Also, That if any man shall have 

aom of earth received King Henry, died in possession of any mortgaged 

under whom he suffered; but these estate, out of which he has already 

things will hereafter be related in their received what was due to him, hi 

own places, portion shall return free to the mort- 

— - gager and his heirs. And the same shall 

Liberties of the Church of Nor- be as to the shares of his wife and chil- 

mandy. dren after their deaths. For if any one 

About the same time (1190) the shall have been carried away by sod- 
Church of God in Normandy was den death, or any accident whatever, 
freed from its lasting yoke of servitude, so as to be prevented from disposing of 
under the assent and ordering of the his goods, the distribution thereof 
famous King Richard. shall be made by authority of the 

Istly, It was determined, and grant- Church. The same shall be done with 

ed by the king, That no clerks shall the portions of his wife and sous after 

be sauced on by the secular power, ex- his death, 
cept for murder, theft, arson, and — 

?^^ mo ^™™"'> ***}***> Apparition of St Thomas to the 

i^f£ te C 2 Bd f u F X th ? f 01681 ? 8 U " **« on board the Royal Vessel 
cal judges, they shall be delivered up 

without delay or resistance, to be tried In the same year (1190) when the 

in an ecclesiastical court. fleet of the king of England, troubled 

Item, That all causes concerning with many dangers of the sea, was 

breach of trust, and perjury, shall be sailing towards Lisbon, and had pass* 

under the jurisdiction of an ecclesias- ed Britany, having Finisterre on their 

tical court left hand, and the great sea over which 

Item, That all cases concerning men pass to Jerusalem on the right, 

dowry or marriage-gifts, when move- and had passed Poictou and Gascony 

able goods are required, are to be re- on the left, and had entered into the 

ferred to the Church. Spanish Sea ; on the day of the Ascen* 

Item, All abbots, priors, or abbesses, sion of our Lord, a fierce tempest at- 

ahall be chosen with the consent of tacked the fleet, and the ships were 

the bishop of the diocese in the con- separated from one another in a mo- 

ventical church. ment. And while the tempest raged, 

Also, There shall be no recognition and all were calling on the Lord in 

in the secular court in cases where ec- their tribulation, the blessed martyr, 

clesiastics shall be able to prove, either Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, 

by deed or in any other manner, that visibly appeared three times to three 

property has been bestowed for charit- several persons in the ship of the 

able purposes ; but they shall be re- Londoners, saying, " Be not afraid, 

mitted to the ecclesiastical judges. for I, and the holy martyr Edmund, 

Item, Distributions of things left by and St Nicholas the confessor, are ap- 

wffl shall be made under the authority pointed bv the Lord defenders of this 

of the church ; nor shall the tenth part, fleet of the king of England. And if 

as formerly, be subtracted. the men and captains of this fleet will 

Item, Concerning the possessions of keep themselves from evil doings, and 

ecclesiastics, even though it should do penance for their former sins, the 

appear that they have been usurers, Lord will give them a safe journey, and 

and by whatever means they may have their steps shall be directed in the right 

come to their death, nothing appcr- way." These things having been thrice 

tains to the secular power, but they repeated and heard, St Thomas vaniah- 

ahall be distributed in works of cha- ed, and immediately the storm ceased, 

ybytb* Math ority of the bishop. There were in that ship, William 

SO. J Extracts from Matthew Paris. 145 

fta-Osbert, and Godfrey, a goldsmith, as he was very fond of hunting and 
id with them many citizens of Lon- hawking, while once on a time he was 
n, who soon passed Lisbon and the sedulously carrying on his diversion in 
ape of St Vincent, and came near the this sort, on a sudden, a man ap- 
ty Silva, which was then the farthest proached him, having the countenance 
hristian city of Spain, and as yet but and appearance of a beggar, who en- 
novice in the faith of Christ, as hav- treated him for some ofthe new coin 
g been made a Christian city but byway of alms. (At that time, to wit, 
le year before, and captured from in the days of Henry I. certain new 
he Pagans. And while they were money had been lately coined in Eng- 
aging near the city, they knew, by land, but which was yet rare, by rea- 
rtain signs, that Christians inhabit- son of its recent issue.) Ulfric an- 
1 h. The ship of the Londoners swered him by saying, that he knew 
nefore cast anchor, and its crew not that he had any of the new coin' 
at received with much honour by about him; whereupon the stranger 
te bishop and all the people. There replied, " Look into thy purse, and 
ere in the ship more than eighty there thou wilt find two pieces and a 
mng men well provided with arms, half" Astonished at this answer, he 
ham the citizens and king of Portu- looked, and there finding what had 
il retained in their service, for fear of been told him, he piously gave what 
ie Emperor of Morocco, giving them was required. But when the man 
1 manner of security for sufficient pay, had received the alms, he said, " Let 
d also providing much more for tnera him repay thee, for whose love thou 
it of the abundance of their munifi- hast done this. And in his name I 
nee. Also, ten other English ships, declare to thee, that in a short time 
spersed different ways, at length, by thou shalt pass from this place to 
it direction of the Lord, arrived at another, and thence again retiring else- 
te city Lisbon, sailing up the river where, thou shalt at length find rest ; 
illad Tajo. Afterwards the Arch- and so, persevering to the last in the 
shop Robert de Sabulis, Richard de service of God, thou shalt after a sea. 
rvilLe, and William deForz, journey- son be admitted into the company of 
% with the fleet between Africa and the saints." 

■JD, after many storms, arrived at After this, for a short time, he at- 

[srseilles, on the octave of St Mary, tached himself like a poor priest, to 

kh all the fleet entrusted to them ; William, the lord of the village in 

here, finding the king of England, which he was born, and ate his daily 

ey stayed awhile for some necessary bread at his table. There also, gird* 

pairs of the ships. ing his loins with strength, he com- 

_ _ pletely renounced the use of flesh for 

Legend of Ulfric the Anchoret. ever w i s h e d for solitude, the holy man 

In the same year at Aylesbury, the at length departed from the house of 

and solitary anchoret, Ulfric, his lord, the knight aforesaid, and 

L to the Lord, having for twen- went to another town, by name Avles- 

years contended with the ene- bury, " Haselbergam," which is thirty 

its of the human race, and gained miles to the eastward of Oxford, being 

final victory; concerning whose life led thither, as is believed, by the in- 

d virtues we have thought it useful spiration ofthe Holy Spirit; and there, 

some small mention, for the in a cell of the neighbouring church, 

jo of oar history. The blessed he prepared himself for Christ, with 

^Ulfric, sprung from Saxon parent- much labour and great mortification 

» of the middle rank, was born at both of flesh and spirit. For he so 

■Dpton, a village eight miles distant wasted his limbs, while above ground, 

sat Bristol, and there brought up with fasting and abstinence, that in a 

id educated ; and for some years he short time, his skin just hanging upon 

fffisfd there the office of priest, his bones, he shewed no longer as one 

akh he is believed to have taken of flesh, but rather as a spiritual being 

mo him in his youth, rather from clad in the semblance of a human 

ant of reflection, than from any body. He was content, by way of 

orthy motive; inasmuch as yet he clothing, with a single vest of hair- 

ttw not God ; but was guided rather cloth made close to his skin, which, 

r the flash than by the spirit. For, when he had worn, till by usag* it 

ltf ExiracUfrom Matthew Paris. Opril 

ceased to be irksome to hira, he then other said, " Let not this discourage 

began to affect the use of a cuirass, you, but with the same shears finish 

Wnich his lord (the knight aforesaid) what you have begun." The knight 

hearing of, sent to this man of God therefore, with renewed courage, fin- 

hfc own cuirass by way of present, ished the work happily, with as much 

thus consecrating the instrument of ease as before, and without any diflU 

mortal strife to the purposes of celes- culty made straight whatever had been 

tial warfare. In the night- time, he cutaway. And then, the man of God, 

was wont to plunge himself naked without any shears, but only with his 

into a tub of cold water, and while own weak fingers, with no less cour- 

there to sing the psalms of David unto age, divided tne rings of the cuirass, 

the Lord, thus by habitual practice to be given in charity to all who 

mortifying the lusts of the flesh, to might seek them, as a remedy for va- 

whieh he was grievously subject. He rious evils. The knight seeing this 

was humble towards all men in his miracle, seized with unspeakable ad» 

discourse, and his speeches savoured miration, fell down at the feet of the 

of somewhat like celestial harmony to man of God: at which deed Ulfric 

his hearers, although he never spoke to being abashed, made the knight arise, 

men, except through a closed window, and conjured him not to reveal it to 

At length, Ulfric, the man of God, any while he lived. But the fame of 

who had hitherto been known to Him the miracle could not be concealed, as 

alone, came to the knowledge of men many religious men boasted of their 

suddenly, for their salvation. For possessing rings from that cuirass : and 

since the cuirass, in which he clothed the fame of the wondrous man of God 

himself, by rubbing against his knees, passed through the whole country on 

prevented the continuance of his genu- every side. 

flexions, he called to him the knight, In the northern parts of England, 

who alone knew his secret, and spoke there was a certain miserable wretch, 

to him concerning the too great length who, not being able to bear the 

of the cuirass. To whom the knight fortune of poverty, had made a com* 
said, " Let it be sent to London, and pact with the devil, and paid homage 
shortened so as to fit your size." The to him. But when Satan for some 
man of God answering, said, This time possessed his prey, the unfor* 
would occasion too much delay, and tunate man's eyes being opened, he 
could not fail to produce some remark began to repent his wickedness, look- 
in others. " But do you," said he, ing round him, and considering to 
" take these shears in your hand, in what patron he should commit him- 
the name of God, and perform the self, who might free him from the 
work with your own hand." So say- death of his soul. At length he do- 
ing, he gave into his hand a pair of termined to go to the holy man, Ulfric, 
shears, which were brought from the in whose hands salvation was said to 
knight's own house : and said to him, be. And being very anxious for his 
(who was as yet doubtful, and thought journey, having revealed it to one of 
his adviser out of his senses), " go on his friends, the devil came to him in 
boldly, and fear not I will pray to his accustomed and well-known figure, 
God the while, do thou boldly begin accusing him of treachery ; and threat* 
the work." Therewith each one sets ened him with a terrible punishment, 
himself to the task assigned, like true should he attempt any thing of the 
soldiers of Christ, the one to his pray- sort. But the man, imposing silence 
ers, the other to the use of his scissors; on himself, found that his enemy 
and the work prospered in their hands, could not know the thoughts of his 
For the knight thought that he was heart, if he did not betray them be- 
cutting cloth, not iron, so easily did forehand by some word or sign. Hav- 
the shears run through the steel. But, ing therefore for some time dissembled 
the man of God desisting from his his design of repentance, he com- 

Srayers before the work was finished, menced at last his premeditated jour- 

e was forced to leave off also. Ulfric ney, that he might reach Ulfric, the 

went up to the knight, and asked him, friend of God : and having passed a 

how the work went on : He answered, long space of country, he came to the 

" Well hitherto, but, at your coming, ford of that river which is beyond 

I found that the shears were incap- (Haselbergam) Aylesbury, the Lord 

Me of making further way." Tne prospering his journey ; but when he 



.]] Extract! from Matthew Paris. Hf 

entered the fbrd, and had con- hind the man who before had been hit 

1 certain hopes of the approach own, and seeing him standing before 

e holy Ulfric, the devil came on the man of God, he seized him, even 

burning with (great wrath, and as he cried; but saying, " O thou 

violent hands on the man, servant of God, assist me, for behold 

out and said, " How is this, mine enemy assaults me." But the 

or, what wouldst thou do ? Thou saint seized on the man's right hand, 

ntest to destroy our compact, but and the devil holding his left, they 

in, for thou snalt soon pay the pulled with all their might. And a» 

ty of that treachery, with which they were thus dragging, the man of 

formerly didst renounce God, God holding the captive with one 

kjw wouldst renounce me; for hand, and with the other throwing 

■halt immediately be drown- some of the water which he had bless- 

thout mercy." And Satan, hold- ed into the enemy's face, drove him 

tim fiat, made him immoveable, in confusion from the house. Then, 

it he neither could proceed, nor having freed the man from the jaws 

to either side. Whilst these of destruction, he led him into hi* 

i were doing in the river, the inner cell, holding him there until, 

jf God, Ulfric, those things being penitent and confessing, he vomited 

led to htm by God through the forth the poison which the devil had 

of prophecy, called firithric his instilled into him, at the feet of the 

(presbyter) to him, and said, man of God: Then the man, having 

fen, ana with the crucifix and holy resumed his strength, had the body of 

, run to the assistance of the man, the Lord offered to him by the holy 

i the devil holds captive in the Ulfric, in the form of flesh ; and being 

leyond the village, and sprinkling asked whether he wholly believed, he 

nth holy water, oring him tome, said, "I believe, Lord, since I see, 

leupon he, hastening to the spot wretch and sinner as I am, the body 

commanded, found the thing and blood of my Lord in thy hands, 

' ' " To 

as had been told him, the under the form of flesh," To whom 

sitting on his horse in the ford, the holy man said, " Thanks be to 

obnmoveably fixed in the water, God: now let us pray, that thou 

It could not stir from the place, mayest be able to perceive it in the ac- 

n, when firithric saw, sprinkling customed form." And thus, having 

with holy water, with the power given him the communion and con- 

■ master, in the name of Jesus firmed him in faith, he sent him away 

t, he drove off the robber, and in peace. This holy friend of God, 

! his prey. And thus bringing Ulfric, died (on the tenth of March, 

be captive from the water, he led and was buried in his oratory at Ayles- 

joyfully to the man of God ; who, bury, in which place, to the praise of 

se meantime praying for the God and glory of the saint, innumer- 

h, was holding up his hands to able miracles are performed even un« 

JonL The demon followed be- to this day. 


It is the hour of vespers ! solemn, slow, 

With downcast eyes, hands folded cross the breast, , 

Like those of images that meekly rest 

On monuments of men dead long ago, 

The holy brethren, in a silent row, 

Pace to the Altar — where, on Mary's breast, 

The infant Jesus lies, both bright exprest 

By Guido's soul in that celestial glow ! 

Bowed are all heads devout, unto the floor, 

And through the roof, magnificent and dim, 

Ascends the sweetness of a choral hymn, 

As paused the Organ-peal ! The Rites are o'er,— 

But doth not each lone kneeler yet adore, 

In his still cell, God 'midst his seraphim ? 

f 0L. VIL T 

14$ Hoggs Tales. CMay 

HOGO'fl TALKS, &&* 

Wf have now to congratulate our refer,— and, moreover, it is not Lm- 
excellent friend, the Ettnck Shepherd, possible that his own personal share in 
on the two wisest actions of his life — them was, after all, no better than an 
his marriage, and the publication of embellishment, devised for the pur- 
these most interesting Tales. The re- pose of making us listen to them with 
■alts of both will, we are sure, be most more zest than we might otherwise 
happy. The one cannot fail to in- have done, over our sober bowl aft 
Crease the comforts of his fireside at Young's or Ambrose's. As so many 
Bltrive ; and the other to extend and substantial records, however, of the 
strengthen his fame where he is most rich monologue of the Shepherd in his 
anxious that his genius and his name hours of cordial communication, the 
should live and flourish— among all volumes undoubtedly possess an inte- 
(h§ firesides of the cottagers of Scot- rest for us, which those that have 
land. We are mistaken, moreover, if never enjoyed the pleasure of his ac- 
the reading public at large will not ouaintance cannot be expected per- 
participate in the interest which these fectly to comprehend. But enough 
'jfrdes must at once awaken among those will remain, assuredly, to delight every 
for whose perusal they are more pecu- one— even after making all needful de- 
Barly and immediately intended ; since, ductions on this Bcore, — and mote than 
if we may judge from the effect they enough to fill every one with admira- 
have produced on ourselves, no one tion for the remarkable and mtdtlfk- 
who aelights in the study of human rious talents of this most estimable and 
nature, and the plain artless delinea- interesting man. 
tion of simple manners, can easily find Of the life of the Ettrick Shepherd 
two small volumes in which so much so many occasional sketches have al- 
instruction is combined with so much ready been laid before the public, that 
amusement. it would be quite superfluous for us to 
To ourselves, however, we are aware enter into any detail of its main inci- 
the perusal of these Tales may have dents. In case, however, there should 
been attended with a species of grati- be any of our English readers who 
fication in which all our readers can- have admired the poet, and yet known 
not expect to be partakers. The truth or heard nothing of the man, we may 
is, so perfectly natural, unaffected, mention shortly, that till he had grown 
and unelaborate is their composition up into manhood, James Hogg led the 
throughout, that we have considered life of a simple shepherd, and was dia- 
oursems all along as listening to our tinguished from his brethren of the 
worthy friend's own conversation, ra- crook by nothing but his superior skill 
ther wan as reading a book of his in the management of his nocks, and 
writing. Not a few of the stories we his superior love and devotion for the 
have of old heard him tell in nearly old traditional lore of that chosen land 
the same words, with this difference, of Scottish romance, the Ettrick Fo- 
that instead of the Basil Lees, George rest. By degrees he began to " try 
Cochrane*, Adam Bella, &c. who How his hand at rhyme," and the admira- 
figure aa their heroes, the adventures tion excited by bis early ballads was 
were then commonly narrated as hav- such as, ere long, to lift him out of the 
ing befallen no less a person than the sphere in which he had hitherto mov- 
Ettrick Shepherd himself. t He has, ed. He was patronised by men who 
no doubt, good reasons for not now yet live to enjoy the contemplation of 
wishing to represent himself as an ac- what their wise patronage has pro- 
tor in some of the scenes to which we duced ;— and being furnished with the 

* Winter Evening Tabs, collected among the Cottagers in the South of Scotland ; by 
James Hogg, author of " the Queen's Wake," &c && Edinburgh ; Oliver & Boyd, 

+ See* in particular, that old standing story of the Shepherd, narrated in vol. I. pages 
78 and 79. There can be no doubt that this happened to Hogg himself, at Tamantoul, 
in the year 1814. We trust he is much reformed since that campaign. 

1830.3 Hoggs Tales. 149 

nno of study, grew by degrees inch to say which of them are the best— 
a man and such a poet as the Queen's the gay or the serious — the talcs of 
Wake proclaims him to be. Endowed superstitious terror— or simple pathos 
bv nature with a rich and lovely iina- —or village wooing — or of comic ad* 
giaation— a heart full of all the finest venture " by flood and field." All are 
ansibilitks — and an understanding at excellent in their way ; so we shall can- 
once acute and profound — and having tent ourselves with giving a single ex* 
lived lor many years the most pocti- tract, and conclude with assuring our 
calof lives, in one of the most poetical readers, that if they relish what we 
of regions, it was no wonder that the quote, they will find TOO neatly and 
£ttrick Shepherd should have become closely printed pages of matter equal- 
a deep and graceful poet of pastoral ex- ly interesting, though generally of a 
taence. That a man such as he is should gayer character, in these two volumes, 
hive lived among the peasantry of his Our extract shall be from one of the 
native country, in many different dis- longest tales in the first volume, en- 
tries of its soil, always mixing with titled, " Basil Lee." The hero is a 
taem on terms of apparent equality, wandering old soldier, from Ettrick, 
tad in the spirit of real sympathy, who lands, after the American war, on 
without laying up vast stores of know- one of the Hebrides, and narrates all 
ledge concerning them, and all that be- that he saw and heard on his route 
longs to their life, entirely inaccessible through the Highlands towards his 
to any author moving in a higher order native place. We should, perhaps, 
of society— was evidently impossible, have preferred giving some part of 
There are few mountains in Scotland " the Love Adventures of Mr George 
from whose summit the shepherd has Cochrane," which we regard as by far 
■ot seen the sun rise — and few glens, the best of the Tales— but, on exami- 
■owerer lonely and sequestered, in nation, we found that any one of his 
whose bosom he has not tasted the adventures would have filled too large 
hospitality of cot or shelling. They a space in our pages. 
must know little of Scotland, and no- " * sta *d and sauntered about that island a 
thing of the Ettrick Shepherd, who month » aDd Dcver in mv lifc was in such a 
doubt that every where he was wel- curu ? 18 < S" ntrv 1 ; «" XT 8 . " "?"" a 
-n. With w^dom. for h the old, and ^^fttffiMfe 
Z? T? jteJwnfF-™ 1 ™ h 9f r 7 legends ^^^ ^ Kamd 8 ^ tiL Thcy j^ powcr 
nr the ingle nook-— and all the magic over the clement*, and can stop the natural 
of romance and poetry for the green- progress of them all save the tides. They 
wood t r ee w herever he arrived, for are a people by themselves, neither High- 
the first time, he excited admiration— landers nor Lowlandcrs, at least tliose of 
and every where his secoud coming u « ■**» "d have no communication with 
made a holiday. Of the treasures ac- the rcrtc»f the world ; but w^ die bdngi 
MMM i*t_i A n iii*~ «n iii. —„«.w;« «. °f another state of existence they have frc- 
mrakted during all his wanderings, intercourse. I at first Ughcd at 
be has now lauloporUon before us in leir stories of hobgobliiis, and watc? spirits, 
tnese unvarnianed Tales. They are but after witnessing a scene that I am going 
written, as we have said, with the ut- to describe, I never disbelieved an item of 
most simplicity — they breathe the very any thing 1 heard afterwards, however far 
spirit of the man that tells them— and out of the course of nature it might be I 
tney reveal so many new and delightful Km now sbout to relate a story which will 
particulars concerning the whole do- ** * believed. I cannot help it. If it 

mestic economy of ou? peasantry, that J"™? P tical ?"■"?■ **»" "?»** 

«o ™ -..— ♦ki, —;n \1 Z^a w» AWnM . for " wno c* 11 - 1 ■ naU ™0e what I saw 

we are rare they wiUteread by every Mm ^ y as I can recollect, and it was not a 

one that has any love for Scotland, or ^e ^ ^ forgotten, 

any curiosity respecting the manners of •• On the banks of this Locb-Rog there 

herchildren — with an interest different, stands a considerably large village, and 

indeed, in kind, but scarcely inferior above that the gentleman's house, who rents 

in degree, to that with which thcy all the country around from Lord Seaforth, 

have all read the sketches of homely and hits lt off a i? lin to numberless small 

Scottish life in the works of the Ettrick * nant J- Between his house and the vH- 

at^iV^^ Md!mtrol, ' th0 &tt£-^ 

uiuier °* waveriey. great numl)Cr of ^ sUmn ^at ^^ 5^ 

Tne stones are very numerous, and TaiscA ^ g^c car | y affit ^d avv&u ai , 

tarn upon very different sorts of sub- distance like an army of tremendous ajants. 

jeete; out h would be very difficult One day a party of seven from <mV»rAust 

150 Hoggs Tales. ZM*Y 

Swallow was invited to dine with (Ms gen- coods, bit at length, on looking 

tleman. We went out a-ehooting all the rowly toward the spot, I thought I 

forenoon, and towards evening, on our re- caved something like a broad shadow 

turn, we found all the family in the most the shore ; and, on straining my eight m 

dreadful alarm* on account of something little more, it really did appear as if divided 

that an old maiden lady had seen which into small columns like the forms of men. 

they called FaUeas More; (the great aba- It did not appear like a cloud, but rather 

dew) and whkh they alleged was the herald like the shadow of a cloud ; yet these was 

of terrible things, and the most dismal cala- not the slightest cloud or vapour to be eeera 

mities. The villagers were likewise made floating in the firmament We lost sight of 

rn-py*^ with it, and they were twining it for a very abort space, and then beheld it 

howling about in consternation. again coming over the heath, above the 

"The family consisted of an old man and rocks that overhung the share. The vision 

his sister ; a young man and his wife, and was still very indistinct, but yet it had. the 

two children : the old man and the two appearance of a troop of warriors dreamed in 

ladies believed the matter throughout, but greenish tartans with a tinge of ltd. The 

the young man pretended with us to laugh headland where the apparition first aioae, 

at it, though I could see he was deeply con* was distant from us about half a milr, 

earned at what he had heard. The vision they appeared to be moving remarkably 

was described to us in the following ex- slow, yet notwithstanding of that, they were 

inordinary manner. dose upon us almost instantly. We were 

" The Great Shadow never comet alone, told that they would pass in array home* 

The next morning after is M*Torquille diately before the windows, along the green 

Dhu's Visit The loss of aD the crops, lane between us and the back of meviuEage; 

and a grievous death in the island, inva- and seeing that they actually approached in 

riabry succeed to these. The apparitions that direction, Dr Scott, a rough, rash, m- 

rJse sometimes in twelve, sometimes in three trepkl fellow, proposed that we should fire 

years, but always on the appearance of An at them. I objected to it, deeming that it 

Fafleaa Mora, Tedhafl Mac Torcfll takes was a trick, and that they were all fellow 

place next morning between day-break and a e aUu cs ; for we saw them now as di sti nc t * 

the rising of the sun. A dark gigantic ly as we could see any body of men in the 

shade is seen stalking across the loch in the gray of the morning. The young man 

evening, which vanishes at a certain head- however assuring us, that it was nothing 

land ; and from that same place the next human that we saw, I agreed to the rxopo* 

morning, at the same degree of tightness, a sal; and as they passed in array imtnedianv 

whole troop of ghosts arise, and with Mac ly before the windows, we pointed all the 

Torcfll Dhu (Black M'Torqtulle) at their eight loaded muskets directly at them, and 

head, walk in procession to the standing fired on this mysterious troop all at once: 

atones, and there hide themselves again in but not one of them paused, or turned 

fheir ancient graves. round his head. They all of them held on 

'« As the one part of this story remain- with the same solemn and ghostlike move- 

ed still to be proved, every one of us deter- ment, still continuing in appearance to be 
mined to watch, and see if there was any walking very slow, yet some way they 
resemblance of such a thing. But the most went over the ground with unaccountable 
extraordinary circumstance attending it was, celerity ; and when they approached near 

that it could only be seen from the upper to the group of tall obelisks, tney rushed in 

windows of that house, or from the same amongst them, and we saw no more, save a 

height in the air, a small space to the east- reeling flicker of light that seemed to trem- 

ward of that ; and that from no other point ble through the stones for a moment, 
on the whole island had it ever been dis- ** They appeared to be a troop of war- 
oovered that either of the visions had been rion, with plaids and helmets, each having 
seen. a broad targe on his arm, and a long blacx 

" We testified some doubts that the morn- lance in the other hand ; and they were led 

ing might not prove clear, but the old man, on by a tall figure in black armour, that 

and the old maiden lady, both assured us walked considerably a-head of the rest 
that it would be clear, as the morning of Some of our people protested that they saw 
M'TorquuVs Visit never was known to be the bare skulls below the helmets, with 
otherwise. Some of us went to bed with our empty eye-sockets, and the nose and lips 
clothes on, but others sat up all night, and wanting ; but I saw nothing like this. They 
at an early hour we were all sitting at the appeared to me exactly like other men; but 
windows, wearying for the break of day. the truth is, that I never saw them very dis- 
The morning at length broke, and was tinctly, for they were but a short time near 
perfectly clear and serene, as had been pre- us, and during that time, the smoke issuing 
dieted. Every eye was strained toward the from the muskets intervened, and owing to 
spot where the Great Shade had vanished, the dead calm of the morning, made us see 
and at length the young gentleman of the them much worse. All the people of the 
house said, in a tone expressing great awe, village were hid in soups within doors, and 
* Yonder they are now.' I could not engaged in some rite which I did not wit, 
(Unem any dung for the space of a few se- nets, and cannot describe; but ttejr took 


1990.3 Hogg'* Tales. 151 

gnat umbrage at our audacity in firing at with Hs mouth shut ; and this was all the 

task unearthly visitors, and I believe there aound that she made, or that he believed 

vat not one among us, not eren the regard- she was able to make. I asked why he did 

Ian Dr Scott, who was not shocked at what not go to her ? but he answered in his own 

aai been done. language, that he would not hare gone to 

M I make no pretentions to account for her for all the lands of the Mackenzie. 

tab extraordinary phenomenon, but the " M'Leod, when on his death-bed, told 

angular circumstance of its being visible on- his friends of all that had passed between 

Ir nam one point, and no other, makes it them, and grievously regretted having met 

look like something that might be account- with her. He said they never met but she 

ei sac I can well excuse any who do not clasped her arms around him, and wished to 

kfeve it, for if I had not seen it with my take him into the sea ; but that it was from 

•an eyes, I never would have believed it. no evil intent, but out of affection, thinking 

Bat of all things I ever beheld for wild su- that he could not live more than she, if left 

ttamty, the march of that troop of appari- upon dry land. When asked if he loved 

asm cxceIled--not a day or a night hath her; he said that she was so beautiful he 

yst passed over my head, on which I have could not but love her, and would have 

sst thought with wonder and awe on the loved her much better if she had not been 

FUHifM'TorquUle. so cold ; but he added, that he believed she 

M From that time forth, as long as I re- was a wicked creature. If the young man 

~ in Lewis, I considered myself in the could imagine all this without any founda- 

of the genii, and surrounded with tion, people may imagine after what they 

I beings mat were ready to start up list; tor my part, I believed every word of 

bodily form at mv side, whenever it, though disappointed of meeting with 

day bad a mind. Such influence had the her. 

risam that I bad awn over my mind, and ** I was equally unsuccessful in my endea- 

• Jar was it beyond my comprehension, vours to see the water hone, a monster that 

dart I new like one half erased about spi- inhabited an inland lake, of whom many 

rils. ana could think or speak about nothing frightful stories were told to me ; but in my 

For a whole week I lingered about next attempt at an intercourse with the 

res to see the mermaid ; for I was spirits that inhabit that dreary country, I 

by the people, that they were very had all the success that I could desire. 

Ely to be seen, though they confessed " I was told of an old woman who lived in 

male as often appeared as the fe- a lone sheiling, at the head of an arm of 

They regarded her as a kind of sea- the sea, called Loch Kios, to whom a ghost 

md ominous, in no ordinary degree, paid a visit every night. I determined to 

s» the boatmen and fishers, but yet they see the place, and to tarry a night with the 

~ that she was flesh and blood, like old woman, if possible. Accordingly, 1 

_ _tfuxee, and that she had long hair, travelled across the country by a wild and 

a race and bosom so beautiful, that pathless rout, and came to her bothy at the 

language had no words to describe fall of night, and going in, I sat down, 

, I was actually in love with them, feigning to be very weary, and unable to 

and watched the creeks as anxiously as ever move farther. We did not understand a 
a lover did his mistress's casement ; and word of each other's language, and conse- 
oftsn when 1 saw the seals flouncing on the quently no conversation, save by signs, 
rocks at a distance, I painted them to my- could pass beween us. I found a miserable 
self m the most delicate and beautiful mer- old shrivelled creature, rather neatly dressed 
maids, but on coming near mem, was al- for that country, but manifestly deranged 
ways di a app o rnt fd, and shocked at the ugly somewhat in her intellects. 
dos/s beads that they set up to me ; so mat " Before I entered, I heard her singing 
" aHf I ww obliged to give up my search some coronach or dirge, and when I went 
mermaids. in, I found her endeavouring to mend an 
M Hiey told me of one that fell in love old mantle, and singing away in a wild un- 
wkb a young man, named Alexander earthly croon ; so intent was she on both, 
M'Leod, who often met her upon the shore, that she scarcely lifted her eyes from her 
al a certain place which they showed me, work when I went toward her, and when 
and bad amorous dalliance with her ; but she did, it was not to me that she looked, 
he men mil sick and died, and when she but to the hole in the roof, or to the door 
came to the shore, end could no more find by which I entered. The sight affected me 
htm, she cried one while, and sung ano- very much, and in all things that affect me 
tear, in the most plaintive strains that ever I become deeply interested. I heard that 
asm heard. This was the popular account; she was speaking to herself of me; for I 
bat them was an old man told me, who knew the sound of the word that meant 
beard her one evening, and watched her, Englishman, but it was not with any symp- 
tom a concealment close beside her, all the toms of fear or displeasure that she seemed 
ems she was on shore, that she made a to talk of me, but merely as a thing that, 
X &t Vprnninp mmatt like that made by a being before her eyes, her tongue mentioned 
kal, not when it bleats out, but when it is as by rote, 
lapsing round for its dam, and bleating " The story that ptcvaikd oC hex **h 

158 Hoggs Tales. pltf 

that being left a widow with an only son; suiting to the rent, which she m *9 

then achild at the breast, she nourished making rather worse than better. It waj 

him ; he became a man ; and the lore and quite visible that either she had no mini, 

affection that subsisted between them was or that it was engaged in something wind? 

of no ordinary nature, as might naturally different from that at which her hands west 

be supposed. He was an amiable and en- employed. 

terprising young man ; but going out to the " She did not offer me any victuals, nor 
fishing once with some associates to the did she take any herself, but sat ahafsng 
Saint's Islands, he never returned, and and sewing, and always between hanc^ sins- 
there were suspicions that he had been foully ing slow melancholy airs, having oB mt 
murdered by his companions, the weather wudness of the native airs of that wild and 
having been so mild that no accident could primitive people. Those that she crotnei 
have been supposed to have happened at were of a solemn and .mournful cast, and 
There were besides many suspicious seemed to affect her at times very deeply. 

*_*. _* , *» -■ ^ ■*.-,..— *g.«- 

could be led. However, the woman hear- no concern at all about me. 

ing that she had lost her darling son, and signs to me either to lie down and rest fp 

only stay on earth, set no bounds to her the only couch the hovel contained, or so 

grief, but raved and prayed, and called up- remain, or to go away. The fire sent forth 

on his name ; conjuring him by every thing a good deal of smoke, bat neither light not 

sacred to appear to her, and tell her if he heat ; at length, with much delay and ftnxv 

waa happy, and all that had befallen to him. bling, she put some white shreds of mm 

These continued conjurations at length into a cruise of oU, and kindled it. Tnfti 

moved the dead to return. The spirit of threw a feeble ray of light through the 

Iter son appeared to her every night at mid- smoke, not much stronger than the fight sf 

night, and conversed with her about the a glow-worm, making darkness scarcely vi- 

utost mysterious things— about things of rible, if I may use the expression, 
life and death. -the fates of kingdoms and The woman, who was seated on a dry 

of men r and of the world that is beyond sod at the side of the fire, not more than a 

she grave—she was happy in the common- foot from the ground, crossed her ras 

ton, and abstracted from all things in this upon her knees, and laying her bend en 

world beside. them, fell fast asleep. I wrapt myself in 

" Such was the unearthly tak that was told my officer's cloak, and threw myself down 

Sn the country of this rueful old creature, on the moss couch, laying myself hi sash a 

and made me resolve to visit her before I position that I could watch all her -^jfTfm 

left the island ; but I could not procure a as well as looks. About eleven o'clock sje* 

man in all the district of Uig to accompany awoke, and sat for some time moaning fibs 

me that could speak both languages ; for, one about to expire ; she then kneeled on 

except the minister and his wife, and one the sod seat, and muttered some aids, 

taxman and his family, there was not one waving her withered arms, and stretching 

in the district, which contained 9000 inhabi- them upward, apparently p er fo r min g some 

tints, that could speak the English Ian- rite, either of necromancy or devotion, which 

guage, or were book-learned. I procured a she concluded by uttering three or sow 

young lad to be my guide, named Malcolm feeble bowls. 

At orison, but he having gathered something When she was again seated I w atc hed 

of my intentions before we left the banks of her features and looks, and certainly never 

Loch Rog, would on no consideration ao- before saw any thing more unearthly, Tl» 

company me into the cot, but left me as haggard wildness of her features ; the 

soon as wc came in sight of it I no sooner anxious and fearful way in which she 

beheld the object of my curiosity, than I looked about and about, as if looking for 

thought her crazy, and that the story might one that she missed away, made soon an 

have arisen from her ravings. Soil she was impression on me that my hairs stood all on 

an interesting object to contemplate ; and end, a feeling that I never experienced be- 

rcsolving to do so for the night, I tried by fore, for I had always been -proof against 

eigne to make her understand that I was superstitious terrors. But here I could net 

n traveller fatigued with walking, and wish- get the better of them, and wished myself 

ed to repose myself in her cottage until any where else. The dim lamp, shining 

next morning ; but she regarded me no amidst smoke and darkness, made her fee* 

more than she would have done a strayed tares appear as if they had been a dull yei- 

cat or dog that had come in to take shelter low, and she was altogether rather like n 

with her. There was one sentence which ghasuy shade of f""*ft*""g that had onto 

she often repeated, which I afterward un- been mortal than any thing connected with 

derstood to be of the following import, humanity. 

* God shield the poor weary Saxon ;' but It was apparent from her looks that she 

I do not know how to spell it in Earse. I expected some one to visit her, and I be- 

could likewise perceive, that for all the in- came firmly persuaded that I should see a 

tentness with which she was mending the ghost, and bear one speak. I was not afraid 

mantle, she was coming no speed, but was of any individual of my own species; for, 

wasting cloth endeavouring to shape a piece though I had taken good cue to conceal 

Hogg's Tales. 163 

m te sear of creating alarm, I place, hoping it would not be long till 

dad pistols and a abort sword day. 

oak ; and at no one could enter " I suppose that I ant about an hour in 

ing my couch by a very narrow this dismal place, without mot ins or chang- 

vae ame to diatinguiah who or ing my attitude, with my brow leaning up- 
on both my bands, and my eyes shut, 

tted keeping my eyes upon the when I was aroused by bearing a rustling 

was watching the door, from in the bed where the body lay. On looking 

lfljbt I could custmgoish voices, round, I perceived with horror that the 

itt more intensely; but, hear* corpse was sitting upright m the bed, shak> 

: sounds came from the other ingitsbeadaaUdidmtheagonieaofdeadi, 

id my head slowly round, and and stretching out its hands towards the 

ally, the corpse of her son siu hearth. I thought the woman had been 

L opposite to her. The figure vivified, and looked steadily at the face, but 

i dead-dothes ; that is, it was I saw mat It was the face of a corpse still, 

coarse white sheet, and had a for the eye was white, being turned upward 

be same colour round its head, and fixed in the socket, the mouth was open, 

iaad upon the brow, as if thrust end all the other features hnmoveably fixed 

with the hand, discovering the forever. Seeing that it continued the same 

* statures, that neither moved motion, I fifted the lamp and looked fear- 
tin, though it spoke in an audi- fully round, and there beheld the figure I 
ana ana again. The face was had so recently seen, sitting on the same 
le, but there was a clear glased seat, in the same attitude, only having its 
poo it, on which the rays of the ace turned toward the bad. 

;, shewed a sight that could not I could stand this no leaser, but fled 

a w ith o ut horror. The winding- ffhrnMjtvg out at the door, and ran straight 

Dtwise aside at the knee, and I forward. I soon round myself in the sea, 

to feet and legs of the same and it being ebb tide, I fled along the shore 

am The old woman's arms fike a deer pursued by the hounds. It was 

«d out towards the figure, and not long till the beach terminated, and I 

hrown upwards, the features came to an abrupt precipice washed by the 

distorted as with ecstatic agony, sea. I climbed over a ridge on my hands 

low became so bewildered, that and knees, and found that I was on a rocky 

stupor, like a trance, without point between two narrow friths, and farther 

to more either hand or foot I progress impracticable, 
aw. long the apparition staid ; I had now no choice left me i so, wrap* 

fit thing that I remember was ping myself in my cloak, 1 threw me down 

fcsatry awakened from my trance m a bush of heath, below an overhanging 

cry which I heard through mv c&T, and gave tro my wbnk mind toamase- 
awead several times. I looked, ment at what I had witnessed. Astonished 

* the old nuserable creature had u I was, nature yielded to fatigue, and I 
Mr face, and was grasping in fell into a sound sleep, from which I did 
alsions the seat where the figure not awake till about the rising of the sun. 

no had so lately reclined. My The scene all around me was frightfully 

overcame my terror ; for she wild and rugged, and I scarce could per- 

dav last verge of life, or rather suade myself that I was awake* thinking 

aweatyfrom time's slippery pre- that I was suH struggling with a dreadful 

ptla; thread of existence by which dream. One would think this was a matter 

ad given way. I lifted her up, easily settled, but I remember well, it was 

theft all her sufferings were over not so with me mat morning. I muled 

av were grown supple, and the heath, cut some parts of it off; and chewed 

s of death had settled on her them in my month i~rDse*--walked about, 

btww. I carried her to the bed and threw stones into me sea, and still had 

1 1 had risen, and could scarcely strong suspicions that I was in a dream. — 

* I carried a human body— it The adventures of the preceding night 

Bochheavier than a suit of clothes, dawned on my recollection one bjr one, but 

I mid her down, I brought the these I regarded all as a dream for certain ; 

to see rf there was any hope of and it may well be deemed not a little ex- 

_ake was living, but that was traordinary, that to this day, if my oath 

aim a resigned though ghastly were taken, I declare I could not tell 

a\ shaking of the head, she ex- whether I saw these things m n dream, or 

in reality. My own beuef leaned to the 

not know what to do ; for the former, hut every circumstance rather tend- 

dark as pitch ; and I wist not ed to confirm the latter ; else, how came I 

E* sing the cot to be surround- to be in the place where I was. 

shores, torrents, and wind- I scrambled up among the rocks to the 

m ; therefore all chance of westward, and at length came to a small 

I ckry fight was utterly impossible; footpath which led from the head of the one 

ad to trim the lamp, and keep my bay to the other ; and fouWma; tax* Vt 

1** Hogg's Tales.' pla/ 

goon brought me to a straggling hamlet, " Silent People," — and the system of 

called, I think, Battaline. Here I found a large farms will leave room for the old 

man that had been a soldier, and had a little dwellers in lonesome places, 
broken English, and, by his help, I raised 0ne feult _ „,,} one feult only have 
^inhabitants of the village; and getting find ^ the8e t ^^ 

into a fishing boat, we were soon at the _•___„ _.,, fi , ftf !f _« # i_ J£~lL 

cottage. There we found the body lying volumes—not that it greatly dfends 

swetehed, cold and stiff, exactly in the Very ™> we frankly confess-but because 

place and the very position in which I laid we fear it may hurt their character a- 

k at first on the bed. The house was mong certain classes of society, with 

searched, and, grievous to relate, there was whom, but for that fault, they could 

no article either of meat, drink, or clothing not fail of being great favourites, 

in it, save the old mantle which I found There is an occasional coarseness — we 

her mending theeyening before. It ap- had almost ^ g r088ne8g _ ^ gome f 

^^J^h£^!t^^msT «*• Tale8 > which half an hour judici- 

a settled matter between her and the spirit, __.i_ __1 # • . n _ lulh . •«:«!?♦ k-—. 

that she was to yield up her fraU life that oxul 7 •pent m correction might have 

night, and join his company ; and that I removed. Mr Hogg is as moral a mam 

had found her preparing for her change^— as ever lived, and as moral a writer ; 

The cloak she had meant for her winding but he is too fond of calling some things 

sheet, having nothing else ; and by her little by their plain names, which would be* 

hymns and orgies she had been endeavour- better expressed by circumlocution £ 

ing to prepare her soul for the company a- and now and ^ he betrays what we? 

mong whom she knew she was so soon to ^^ % ^ „^ gaH ^ m Among; 

£<m2£* """* "*"* the lower ranks 'of Sag even flg 
I have related this story exactly as I re- l » 08t v^tuous are not always over-de— 
member it It is possible that the whole hcate in their language,— and both*, 
might have been a dream, and that I had maids and matrons, without reproach*, 
walked off in my sleep ; for I have some- occasionally employ language in the? 
times been subjected to such vagaries, and field or by the hearth, which woulcaV 
have played wonderful pranks in my sleep t ma k e the races of young ladies in ball— 
but I think .the circumstance of the corpse TQOms not a whu more &&,** «x 
be^foimdmmeverywaymw^Ihad th ^ ^ d ^ ^ ti w ^ 
laid it, or at least supposed I had laid it, , , , J ^™u:™ * UI, " U * , "^ 
confirms it almost bejond a doubt, that blu £ •* ^eu stocking*. 
I had looked upon the whole with my Not a few such passages occur in* 
natural eyes. Or, perhaps part of it may these tales— which it would require? 
have been real, and part of it a dream, for an intrepid person to read aloud to* 
the whole, from the first, was so like a vi- boys and virgins. For the sake o*7 
aionco me, that I can affirm nothing anent it worthy souls, who are fastidious is 
There is a great deal of poetry in guch things, let our good Shepherd 
this — and indeed the Shepherd is al- request Oliver and Boyd to leave out 
ways at home in the clouds and dark- all guch tid-bits in the second edition, 
ness of superstition. He speaks of which we prophecy will be called fir 
ghosts like a man who believes in before midain¥inier,<md th^n » fa» O ttd f- 
them ; — and who ever passed his in- p^n * Yarrow may laugh at 
fancy among the hills without seeing . 
Spirits? Assuredly not James Hogg— " rhe ""^ «** wielding hwdsficata pen,* 
who had too much heart, and too much and furnish his cottage, neatly, but 
imagination, not to have beheld a not gaudily, out of the proceeds. As 
thousand sights well worthy to be he has cut Edinburgh entirely, we 
called ghosts, and that will be so call- hereby give him notice, that there is 
ed while the sun forms shadows upon to be a rising en masse of the Contri- 
the mountains, and the winds whistle butors on the 12th of July— so let him 
through the rocks. It is not true that have his new mahogany tables and 
superstition is dying away in the High- black hair-cloth sofa in good con- 
lands of Scotland — even the second- dition, and stock well that " cozie 
sight endures ; and when will those cupboard in the corner," dispensing 
melancholy wilds, liquid sweets— for it is thirty-three 
"That stretch away miles good (over the hill from Peebles), 
Into the dim and distant day," and there is nothing more dangerous 
cease to be haunted by the spectral ap- than to drink cold water after a long 
paritions of Fear ? The Caledonian walk in summer. 
Canal itself cannot frighten away the 

Moods of the Mind. 1M 

No IV. 

The Forager* 

An old oak forest rose upon my sight, 

Fantastic, with its wreathed and knotted boughs ; 

Twas at a summer evening's gentle close ; 
And yet the peaks of broomy hills were bright 

With lingering sunshine, but their sides arose 
In darkness, 'mid the fast decaying light ; 

And, ever and anon, the passing breeze 

Stirred, with a transient breath, the aged trees. 

And on a mound, beside a quiet lake, 

In which the darkened woods reflected lay, 

A castle reared its walls, and turrets gray, 
As gray as lichen, and as time can make ; 

And near the landward entrance in the bay, 
Their evening thirst where meek-eyed cattle slake, 

The dark portcullis hangs, with iron frown, 

Throwing its cumbrous chains in masses down. 

And lo ! a neighing steed comes down the dale, 

Weary with travel, glad at sight of home, 

Its glossy sides and neck besprent with foam 
The rider's morion dancing in the gale ; 

With deep red stain through yonder crevice roam 
The sunbeams, glowing on his bumish'd mail ; 

A champion fitted for his bustling age, 

Within whose breast the fiery passions rage. 

His ioy is in the foray, in the fight, 

The nightly rescue, and the plundered hall, 

To drive the lowing cattle from the stall, 
And fire the hostile roof 'mid dreary night ; 

His is a lawless life, that holds in thrall 
All, that we deem of conscience or of right, 

That rushes down the stream of passion's course, 

And sinks within the whirlpool of remorse ! 

And on his dying bed, when withering age 

Hath reft his strength, and bleach'd his tresses gray, 

He speeds his henchman to the next Abbaye 
To bring a holy Abbot, to assuage 

His mortal pangs, and teach his lips to pray 
Once, ere he feave this sublunary stage ; 

Yet doth he deem repentance comes in time, 

Giving an hour of prayer for years of crime ! 

And he hath perished, and his father's son 

Reigns in his stead, as lawless and as bold ; 

And, as he emulates his sires of old, 
Thinks as they thought, and does what they hart done, 

Until the circuit of his year have rolled, 
And heavy clouds surround his setting sun, 

Then in the vault he rests, and, proudly tall, 

Another paces the ancestral halL 
Vol. VII. U 

Mood* tfthi Mind. 
But Error shall not lire, end, though the gleam 

Of bright romance, on nil ways, and men, 

And deeds, that well become the tiger's den, 
Flash o'er our startled souls with da ailing beam, 

And for a while bewilder n», tls when 
The soul grows tranquil, that we beat may deem 

Where cloudless Hope and Happiness can dwell. 

If not with purity in Virtue's cell. 

The i»r dung around the moulAVp"g atone ; 
And, on the roofless waBa^blooaned natural flower* ; 

Through crevices the winds did make their mom. 
And through the thin-leav'd oaks, arid mouldering bowers 

No voice waa heard, except the fox's bowl 

Afar, or hearer whoop of boding owL 

But, far and near, on MBstfla , and m dell, 
Gleamed cottage windows, through the dim twilight, 

""""*■ ' pitBhlei* 

With hospitable ray. 
For social hearts, and w 

il hearts, aj_ ..„ 
And cultivated farms and pastures bright 
Outspread ; and, when die warrior frowned in roailj 
Amid his snoed bands, who loved turmoil. 
Maids sung, and ploagnboyt whistled at their toiL 

thi crraaas Tata. 

A slender tree upon a bank 

In lonely beaut* towers, 
So dark, ai if it only drink , 

The essence of the thfmder showers ; 
When birds were si their evening song, 

In thoughtful reverie, 
I've marked the shadow* deep laid long. 

Outstretching from that cypress tree. 

I've thought of oriental tombs, 

Of silent cities, where 
In ms»T a row (be 'cypress glooms. 

In token of despair ; 
And thought, beneath the evening star. 

How many a maiden crept 
From busy lifci's dispftflant jar, 

And o'er the tomb fn alienee wept 

I've thougl 

Thou be 
How many 


Have, hie 

Moods of the Mind. Iff 

Tlwa Wert a token unto me, 

THou gtem with dreary leaf, 
So desolate' thou aeem'st tote, 

Th«t earth is but a home of grief ! 
A few sNort year* shall journey by, 

And then thy boughs shall wave, 
When tempests beat, and breezes sigh, 

Above my head, and o'er my grave ! 


No. VI. 


Pale Star ! that lookeat o'er the waters blue, 
When earth and ocean wear a twilight hue, 
From slumber waking, 6ft I turn tJthee, 
And marvel what the day shall bring to me ! 

Oh! happy years of innocence and joy, 
When pleasure smil'd upon the careless boy, 
How have ye swiftly fled, to leave behind 
Sorrow's dark clouds, and Misery's hollow wind ! 

Then, like the morning lark, I woke and sung, 
Mirth in my heart, and music on my tongue, 
Now fearful I awake to Morning's light, 
And ask seclusion, and the fall of night 

Through mazy crowds my heartless path I trace, 
Nor greet a smile upon one friendly face, 
Mid courts and camps I murmur and repine, 
And sigh that peace and privacy were mine ! 

Oh world at distance smiling so serene ! 
Oh world, thou rootleyed and tempestuous scene ! 
Oh world, where Purity receives her blot, 
And Virtue is eschewed, — I love thee not ! 

Then, fire thee well, bright star, that usher'st in, 
Alike the morning calm, the evening din, 
More welcome shall thy next appearance be, 
When, gemming Twilight's robe, I gaze on thee! 



Mark Macrabin, tie Cameronian. 

(Continued from hit Number, p. 57.) 

Adventure with the Quptie$. 

is the common folly of a common Cameron, am none of those. In choos- 

d to offer up its mite on somehi^h ing my kind and respectable friend, 

niighty altar, where it lies undis- the Cameraman, for a theme of enter- 

uiatted amid the magnificence of tsinment and instruction, I avow thai 

Isr onVringi — to cast its pebble on I do so for the sake of the suhjeot 

mountain cairn of some chief, to matter alone— that I have no hopemv 

Ml the song of Sir Walter Scott writings will invest my legs with either 

said " live for ever," and neglect one pan* or sundry of his notable perJ- 

nkrrow and unnoticed grave of the son-gray hose, or fill my ample shelves, 

ikisjsjd Heroic subaltern.— I, Mile* where books should be, with the wise 

166 Mark Macrabin, i/u Cameronian. pkfsj 

and devotional tracts of his establish- who had seated herself on an old pan- 
ment. I do farther avow, that I am nier beside him. The gypsey maiden 
not lengthening my visits, and pro- answered with a sigh, * Lack art, in- 
fracting the narratives of the good deed ! and what signifies art in a world 
man, with an iron lock on its nieve like 
" By many a winding bout this? The gray stone, and the thorn 
Of linked sweetness long drawn out." bush, have divided the good green 
for the express purpose of quaffing his earth into park and plantation— the 
total remittance of Highland spirits, deer has his wide domain of wood and 
as I have been most unkindly accused wilderness nae mair, and comes forth 
by his relative, the goodman of Slok- nae langer with his straight fleet legs, 
endrouth — nor with the design of be- and his lang branching norns amang 
ing distinguished in his final distribu- the bonny moonlight, to meet with 
tkm of effects, as Mungo Mactac, the the outlaw and his arrow. The black 
portionerofliideawee, declared in a re- cock has his mountain, but then he 
cent letter to my friend. But I do has his master — the wild swan has 
devoutly depone, that all I have a her lonely stream, but she has an 
chance of receiving beside the approval owner too— and all the gear that God 
of my own heart, is an application of sends on wings to the wanderer and 
the brass-studded elwand to mine the outcast, has been claimed and 
own proper person, as soon as the marked for man. The sheep in the 
fiery Cameronian discovers I have be- fold, the hen on her perch, the fish in 
trayed his history to the curiosity of the stream, the fruit on the bough, 
mankind. Should this happen, it are nae langer to be won by woman's 
shall be narrated with the scrupulous wit— and a willing hand, with a dark 
accuracy of a man whose chief delight and a pistol, might as well expect to 
is in truth. The Cameronian thus pur- make the deep salt Solway spew up 
sued his history : — the gowd and the gear it has swaHow- 
" After the departure of these des- ed, as seek to snatch it from the sicker 
peradoes on their various errands of dutch of attorneys, attorneys clerks, 
depredation, we had silence for a few and other wily artificers. Might msj 
moments. The chieftain shook his do nae mair; and as for slight, my 
head several times, accompanying it hand has nae been crossed with white 
with an ejaculation of ' Aye, aye,— money but ance these seven blessed 
God help my hollow banes and gray days, and that was when I spaed a 
hairs!' and seemed evidently reflect- powerful bridegroom and a merry 
ing, with bitter anxiety, on some im- bridal to muckle Meff Aicken ; and 
portant matter. Meanwhile, 'deep, she clapped her hands, leaped lark 
loud, and long the thunder bellow- high, and cried, ' Praise be bleat- 
ed,' and the lightning, in a swift sue- Lord send it soon and sudden.' 
cession of vivid flashes, lingered at the " As the gypsey maiden finished her 
loon-holes of our habitation, seem- singular lamentation, the door was 
ingly conscious of the evil inmates, suddenly darkened by the loaded per- 
and not without a determination, as I son of the gallant Macgrab of Galloway, 
interpreted it, of melting the walls of who had justified his lineage, his name, 
■olid whinstone about our heads. Add and his calling, by an inroad on the 
to all this, the thunder-rain, in large sheepfold of a neighbouring farmer, 
drops, came plash after plash on the € Here,' said the Galwegian marauder, 
blanket roof with which our habita- ' by my saul, here's a gimmer pet wi' 
tkm was covered. ' There's a bonnie seventeen pund o' tallow beneath her 
night for a stock o* corn,' said the ribs; and a fleece, a fuller fleece, and 
hoary conductor of the horde, ' A a finer, never came under the tarred 
hraw night, an' a bonnie— a kindly finger and the sharp sheers; and a 
night for proving the locks that hand pair of notable horns, wed worthy o* 
the gowd-in-gowpins of the world- the crafty and cunning hand o' auld 
hugs, an' earning a meltith for to- Dingem Marshall himself.' And 
morrow's sunket But sworn a bit down he laid his living burthen at the 
©' ought that*B eatable will thae sack- feet of the patriarch, who first looked 
leaf tinners get— no as muckle as a at the spoil, and then at the spoiler, 
ban could hand in her steeket nieve— with a look of inimitable humour, 
they lack the art, hinnie, they lack the The hands of the gypsey damsel were 
art, add he to bonnie Kate Marshall, already on the fleece. She shifted her 

1990,3 Adventure with the Gypsiei. 159 

scrutiny to the horns, and said, with hair aye runs away with the flesh in 

t loud laugh, ' A fine fleece and a spite o a' my skill ; and sae I fare on 

fall? it's as coarse as the heather cowe, land ; and as for the water, the bonny 

ve gowk—e'en like yere ain towsie winding and gentle Nith canna call a 

nisiinrlr o' hair, that has nae been single fin its ain, — they syle its current 

famed since Kate Kimmer kamed it through their herling nets 'tween yule 

with the three-footed stool, and the and yule. I have nae skill to tempt 

smckle pot clips. It has a grist like a salmon in sunshine, with bonny 
And fat said ye ? Dal soupit, 


winged hooks and gilded worms ; day- 
it's but a ruckle o' dry banes and yel- light wark comes nae in my creed, 
low hair, wi' a raw hide thrown owre But give me a Martinmas midnight, 
them. And brag o' it's horns ! ye wi' a sharp barbed leister in ae hand, 
csuld as soon hammer a ram horn in- and a burning light i' the tither, just 
to a hand-vice as shape thae dry wi- let me up midthigh deep in EUisland 
taered and sapless shoots into spoons, ford, and show me a salmon lying on 
Tell ne'er earn yere bread by skill in the gravel like a lang green ribbon, 
cattle, my bonny man ; ye had better (for O, they're bonny creatures i' their 
ssr the king, and be shot at for six- ain element,) wi' an ell-deep o' clear 
pence a-day, Sunday included.' 'And water aboon them, and if I dinna 
warnr than a' that,' cried the chief of make him mine, ca' me to the croft 
horde, ' instead o' a sappy and wi' a peel'd wand, an' a dud o' scarlet 
simmer ewe, it's as gude a tup to lead turkeys for the powk-puds 
lap, and as auld as the bills he who live owre the border.' The rest 
gnsed on- I have kenned him thae of the horde gathered around the sue- 
le ie nt e eu summers by this auld-far- cessful adventurer, and proceeded to 
and crook in his horn ; he was ance examine and praise the spoil. One 
i tmuant brute, and a bonny ; but eat- of the foremost was the gypsey woman, 
*"~ mm'i oat o' question. We might who sung the lament for the loss of 
mm, that's true, and nae broth a' her lover ; ' Twa bonny maukins, 
and flesh on Sunday.' All atweel,' said she, holding the hares 
rical comments upon his up by the hind legs, between her 
isnpaent and his prey, the Galwegian and the light, to get a clear view of 
an with most good humour — he their outline, ' Aye ! aye ! him that's 
eim contrived to purloin a kiss from awa', e'en him wham we a' miss, and 
Kate? Marshall herself— just, he de- me the warst, was aye as gleg as a 
eland, for the pleasure of touching the gled at seeing thae bonny brown four- 
am that could talk so cleverly ; and legged rinaways, and the fleetest grey* 
van the old man became silent, he hound was nae fleeter and surer in 
and to his recent load, ' Rise up, my catching them. And ye talk o' ye're 
aide auld withered brute, ye see what skill in salmon, the half o' a' thy 
respect u paid to years—back to yere skill's nae that muckle, and ye're 
amid ye shall gang, howsever — we'se luck's less. Him that's awa could 
no bee a lamb-cloot on a' the Caulside hae tauld ye a Nith salmon — they are 
o* DoBseore if we thrapple the gude- fat and fair, and silvery scaled— frae 
■an o* die flock. 'Od I wad rather an Annan water fish ; an Annan water 
seek my fortune wi' a craped brow an' fish frae a water o' Dee fish — they hae 
a bent pistol than grope for my sub- a dark and a sorrel look — it's a deep 
among crock ewes and gim- stream, and a bluidy, and a Dee fish 
ts. Ira a new trade to the frae a salmon o' the sweet silver link- 
of Maegrab.' ing Orr. Aye! Aye! salmon fish, 
" In the middle of this audible soli- and grilses, and herlings, and bull 
lequy we were greeted by the cousin trouts, may a' swim unmolested now ; 
of bonny Kate Marshall, loaded with the very dumb fish, I think, liked to 
of less unwieldy bulk, and be taen by his hand ; and name he 

km questionable excellence, namely a never came without a kind kiss and 

ompk of hares, and a large salmon, sunket for me, — he's sair missed and 

' I have had saltless luck,' said he muckle.' She replaced the hares on 

who thus joined the fisher and the the floor, and lifted and examined 

hunter in one person, ' the hare nae* the salmon, evidently affected by their 

laager lores to browse on the green association with her lover, and his 

dewy blade o' the clover, or on the favourite pursuits. ' Here, baud ye're 

bosom ©* the kindly curly kale. The lap/ said the cousin of boiuvy Kate 

}fO Mark Macrobi* 9 the (kmerimizn. CM*ar 

Marshal moved by this pathetic euu- with die agUitV of a chaced hart, 

meratimi of his lost relative's talents, and with something, too, I thought* 

« hen's fonket for ye; I risked roy of its terror. An ass stood in the 

neck on a high stane wa', my twa way ; he cleared the animal's backs*** 

lega in a man trap, the black deil rive bound ; and rushing into the presence 

them into spunks, that employ sic of the chieftain, stood waving hi* 

diegraceru' engines, and exposed ray hands, motioning to begone, gaping 

person to the discharge of a ground and aghast with breathless haste aum 

gun, whilb makes a man draw the strong terror,—' Confound you for » 

trigger against himself, a most unlaw- glowering gomeral,' exclaimed the old 

fu' weapon, never to talk of the terrors man, 'say what ye haeto sav, an' if 

of three herds, and as mony dumb ye canna sayet, sing V And sing it 

tykes, and a' to please a pair o' sweet ne did, in a tone equally singular and 

lips, and yet a' that my venturous* dolorous, a natural imitation, no doubt, 

ncas was rewarded with, waa sax honey of the ancient custom of the primitive 

pears, sair riddled by wasps and worms; people of the earth, who responded in 

fifteen sugar pippins, sweeter never poetry, if not in rhyme. 

hung amang green leafs ; some scores « Hap, wrap, an' on, else ham will happen, 

of damsons; and diaens o' plumbs Ftae the red wude land o* Caponeraptn.' 

with a Latin name. It may nae be * The laird of Caponcrapin,' answer- 

aonsie to eat them. I wad ask other ed the old man with a laugh of acorn, 

counsel anent that than my ain teeth. ' I could fight him, and drub him, 

Even take some o the ripest, and with a weapon pulled from the tail of 

greet about his gifts again, and get sne of his ain turkies,'— and he began 

another ; he was a leash lad and a to busy himself about the harvest; 

leal/ So saying, he gave the gypsev horn, as composed aa if no enemy 

widow some pears and plumbs, which approached. * Aye! aye! but/ amid 

he had gathered in great jeopardy the hopeful man of Dryfr, ' here he 

frem die garden walls of a Nithsdale comes, and twenty coon with drawn 

laird—I need not name him — his swords and pitchforks marching afore 

house which he built — bis garden him; he's never foremost himself when 

Which he fenced and fettened— his harms in the road, dom me if he be,* 

ponds, his orchards, and all that he Up started the ciueftain, with an agi- 

bved and delighted in, have passed lity which eighty years and odd can 

from him and his for ever and ever.— seldom boast of ; he detivefced has 

' What is gotten owre the deil's orders with infinite composure and 

back's spent aneath his belly,'— and distinctness, ' Fill the panniers— 

that's a Nithsdale proverb, and often saddle the brutes seek the wood, and 

has it come to pass. pass to the mountain by the gate ye 

" The thunder and its fearful accom- ken— meet me in fifteen hours by the 

naniments had passed away; the forest auld trysten howff on Kinnel water, 

houghs, bent down by the weight of an* may him that fruiters hae hemp 

their moistened leafs, began to shake to his craig, and cauld aim to ma 

in the dry and gentle wind; the ravens, weazen.— But bairns, aboon a' things, 

visible in pairs on the tree tops, re- leave me some fonnered corn for my 

plumed their vrinn,ruflled anddrench« poor auld ass. 9 In a moment, the 

ed with rain; the asses, motionless swords, the guns, the sheepskins, and 

and stupid while the rain descended, their carcasses, the hares, the hens, 

shook the moisture from their backs, the salmon, even bonny Kate Mar* 

and began to taste the refreshened shalTs pears and plumbs, ripe and 

grass ; and first one star, and then a untested, cauldron and clout, were 

brighter, came glimmering through bundled up and borne off. And the 

the wet foliage of the high holly pan* asses, loaded with spoil and with wai- 

sade that encompassed our habitation, let, and the merry cousin of Kate, 

I had stood some minutes on the the Galwegian Macgrab, and the hero 

threshold, gaping on the altered scene, of the Dub of Dryfo himself, with all 

and inhaling the air, now rendered that to them naturally pertained, and 

deliriously fresh by the strong purifl- much more, were mustered on the 

cation it had undergone, when sud« moonlight green, and ready for flight 

denly I beheld my old opponent, the Forth stalked the old man in the 

desperado, from the Dub of Dryfe, pride of place, his hands trembHng 

coming running towards the fastness more with disturbed dignity than age, 

1890*3 Adventure with the Gypiiee. 161 

me time stroking his gray beard, an- moment— looked round after the ex- 
other time fumbling with the pistols ample of her grandfather, to see that 
at his belt, looking to the avenue all was smoothed down, and reduced 
where the presence of the pursuer was to the harmless exterior of the peace 
expected, and then looking at the establishment — then hastened to her 
csTslcade which was preparing to dive couch, and dived among the mantles 
into the depths of the forest ' Kate, and rugs as quick as a young cygnet 
my winsome wean, it winna do !' said among the lake rushes, and as tawny 
he, addressing his grandaughter, who too. All the couches and places re- 
was ready at his side in all emer- sembling beds for human repose were 
grades. ' God— but my auld blude vanished or occupied — it was proba- 
crows hei and young again, to be bly against the etiquette of the horde 
hounded frae cleugh to cavern by a to presume to share with the chief— 
coof o' a country laird, and yet, my it might also have provoked the spirit 
lass, e'en in my youngest days I have of his descendant had I begged the 
aeen and proved, that ae pair o' heels hospitality of one of her Sanquhar 
was worth twa pair o* hands. Saeride counterpanes that had decked the 
lads, rule, said he, turning to his ready bride-beds of so many of her ances- 
dependants, its a sad thing to rin away tors, and had I attempted to escape, 
frae strokes, but ane maun live lang one of the old man's pistols, or a pitch- 
after they are affronted, else the days fork of one of the laird's rustics— 
o* ike best and the bauldest would be whose footsteps were now heard audi- 
ftw." In a moment the secret pas- hly in the avenue — might have im- 
age opened, the troop passed through, peded my progress. The damsel saw 
the branches closed with a rustle be- my embarrassment — and a wave of 
land them, and an anxious ear could her hand, and a backwards beck of her 
only hearken a low and gentle sound, curly head, brought me to her bed- 
Kfae green lean disturbed by the mo- side. If she had any intention of 
tioft of birds, as they wound their way sharing it with me, she changed her 
slow* the soft green sward of the mind in a moment. ' I see/ said 
weal. she, € with a smile and a whisper, 
" 'Now,' said the patriarch of the ye're scantily acquaint with our pranks 
* might's gane, and slights — hut ye have an eye, and ye can 
make the maist on't— sae mark, and ye have a mind, and can 
ftOow me, bairns ;' and into the understand — lie down on my bed, and 
nsw-untenanted mansion he strode, e'en be as sick as a sound heart can 

sd by bonny Kate Marshall and weel be— buckle on my mutch— end 

llie old man looked all around my mantle— and I'll sit and watch 

led down all that wore a dis- aside you — I have waked a living 

appearance, and said, ' Now, corse with shoon on its feet afore now 

bairns, keep a dose eye and a silent —and sae have ye— ye young black 

tongue arid the horned deil— con- sparkling eened psalm-singer ; for all 

tend me if I wadna make the laird o' sae saft and sackless as ye look, I 

Gq^-what-d'ye-call-um a spoon o' wadnae trust myself on the top of a 

ms Itngeat horn, only it's no handy snaw wreath with ye i' the mirkest 

to come by— e'en the grim deil him- and maist icy night o' winter. It's no 

ssof, cannm skaith a hair o' our heads.' said in a psalm, but in a gude auld 

We promised implicit obedience— saw — 

r and now my poor auld brute,' said * Wi* a white man rede yere rede, 

the chieftain, casting a tattered mantle Wi* a brown man break yere bread, 

the back of his ass; ' I was Wi* a red man draw yere knife, 

sae hard sted but I minded But hie P a bkck man frae yere wife/— 

thro thonthnthtTrrnnrmnnThrnwnnnn And your daughter, too, says, ' poor 

and bonny daughters on thy back — and Kate Marshall — no sae low as to make 

an cold wirethat I loved dearer than verses, but a seller o' horn spoons, 

Aywi a'/ So saying, he laid four and a spaer o' poor folks fortunes.' — 

snwpinrulb of cornbefore his four- Down I lay, and down sat the joyous 

fcoted awourite— retired to a land of young gypsey beside me— with clasp, 

coodL and down he dropped, and lay ed hands — a look of demure and aor- 

extenoed like a man who had already rowful attention, and over her whole 

enjoyed some hours of undisturbed person a large rough mantle thrown, 

Amber. The damsel lingered for a which, reaching to the grauivn., wA 

108 Mark Macrabin, the Cameraman. 0**7 

covering her head, threw her face into 8. 

a deep shade, where the sparkle of her « The warmest heart-^e brsAte* eye 

large loving and swarthy eyes was is earliest doomed to tove anddie, 

alone visible. As I lay, I looked The sweetest, gentle*, and the best, 

around, and could not help wondering Seek earliest out the land of rest, 

at the suddenness of the change the The noblest mind, the bravest spirit, 

whole settlement had undergone. A 1* briefly doomed earth to inherit— 

brief period ago, this lonesome den of Thi8 wodd hoIds nou 8 ht that ' i WOfth *• 

refuge had a bustling and dangerous ^ mn JSt w. „-«^ a^ „♦ x^ 

a^Tmenacing lc^containeTaeter- Of wcmian s love, suice mou wert dust 

mined and desperate characters, to 3. 
whom perilous undertakings were a « Thou comest with the coming light- 
pastime, by whom plans of outrage to Thou goest not with the darksome night- 

others, and labour and jeopardy to TrVie ** ue leaf i» to the tree 

themselves, were sketched and fulfill- And the lily bloom to Blackwood-lea, 

ed with a gayety, a rapidity, and pre- T™ 6 M °™ thad ° W8 I"!** 6 ■**"*• 

/^ a ;^ti ~,r«?n;«~Vv^ *Jui,*:»i *e *u/a As we courting sat in the sweet moonbeam; 

ciaion, rivalling the exploits of the fa- go is my fbm to me, and never 

mous companions of old, who pro- shaU ufc or death us sunder and sever.' 
claimed themselves ' mends to God, 

and enemies to all the world/ The I was by no means prepared fir this 
change was as extensive as sudden— melancholy dirge, and the dolorous 
look at the house and its inmates now accompaniment of the maiden's voice 
— and the stone eyes of an inquisitor — the sorrowful composure wijth 
must have dropt marble tears — a ve- which she caused the words to drop 
nerable hoary-headed man lay sleep- one by one into my ear, and the at- 
ing alone on a rugged couch — instead pect of deep and unaffected sorrow 
of ' a good soft pillow for his old with which she ministered at my 
white head,' he had a bunch of chur- couch, required all my faith to credit 
liah and unshapely horns, with an old mine own convalescence. At this mo- 
black leather apron thrown over them ment, about a dozen of well-armed 
— and over all streamed down his long men entered our dwelling, and last of 
thin white hair — he lay like a person- all came the doughty laird of Capon* 
ification of helpless and desolate old crapin himself, the sweat of haste, and 
age. And here I lay, the sick and probably of fear, running drop a£» 
enfeebled brother of bonny Kate Mar- ter drop down both cheeks, ana car* 
shall— in seeming slumber— and quite rying a tribute of powder and per* 
unequal to the hazardous expeditions fume with the current-— pale and pant* 
of depredation and broil— and there ing — a drawn sword in his hand- 
sat my soft-eyed protectress, so still with his sharp suspicious twinkling, 
and so sorrowful — watching me with cat-grey eyes roaming unceasingly 
the looks of a lovely creature in love, round,! lest an ass's pannier or a blan- 
I now heard the near and cautious ap- ketted couch should contain desperate 
proach of feet, and as the open door of homicides, ready for strife. The 
our dwelling began to darken with sound and the bustle with which they 
human forms, my gypsey nurse be- entered, was just such as might be 
gan to sing, or rather chant, in a low supposed to wake a roan from a com- 
and mournful voice, some fragments of mon sound sleep— the chieftain began 
an old song — composed probably on to rouse and bestir himself like a man 
an occasion of deeper seriousness than untimeously disturbed, while his gen- 
this — I can only remember some im- tie grand-daughter poured forth, with- 
perfect passages— which I thus eke to- out stint or limit, line after line of 
gether : deep and pathetic song over my bed* 

' Deil soupet's here,' said a plough* 

1* man, casting, as he spoke, his pitch- 
fork out at the door as far as he could 

« I thought but on the bridal song— pitch it, f save an auld man, faMf Pt 

?S! on ^l d f mth :? r ?5 d , a Sil ong "" asathrashen straw-end that canna 

I thought but on thy bridal sheet — m *«*A ,•*« i a „„ „;» mttmk „* »«. ^ A «„ v^«. 

NcVofc thy shroud to wail and weep- itan 5 ** ^e—wi scant as mony haira 

Thy cottage on the streamlet's bank ° n ™* J"* *» *jd number the years 

Is now the cold grave deep and dank ; «e has lived— and a poor lassie tabbing 

And thv poor maiden comes to moan, o'er a sick bairn — may I be buried in 

And sob o*er thy sepulchre stone. my next furrow, and hae the een 


Adpenimre with tht Gypsies. 16$ 

ut of my head by a hoodie- surrounded as he was, with triple 

I'll either make or meddle wi' rows of protectors. Terror too has 

nd sae I tell ye.' Round on strong powers of association — and to 

xtthizingplowman— (his name the voice and the figure, the rears of 

nes Nivieson, his mother's the redoubted portioner of Nith add- 

a Marion Mouter, of the glen- ed a dozen fearless followers at least 

word gade she was nae can- with pistol and sword. He started 

id on his companions turned back— dropping, instead of extending, 

icy damsel, with a look that his sword at the object of his terror— 

ive commanded commiseration and shouted out, in a voice quavering 

irts of proof. ' Alack, alack/ with horror, ' Oh ! shoot him, shoot 

sd, ' little can we do for ye,' him.' The damsel, as this was utter- 

3g to mistake them for wan- ed, sprung from her seat, and con- 

ouciting a night's lodging ; fronted the laird, with one hand ex- 

oought but a roofless shieling tended as if to clutch his throat, and 

npty walls— toom bags — and the other placed on the stock of a pis- 

ckers — three feckless fowk — tol, or the hilt of a dirk, which she 

pry and ane sick— blessed liv- carried concealed in her bosom— and 

has nae passed at ween this lad *s which she could employ with equal 

lours mae than I shall count; courage and address. The object of 

; in this wilderness hae we her wrath seemed to feel an additional 

rm-ated— and fever-sted— sae alarm at the advance of this tawny 

on— we can give ye nought amazon — as he was in the habit of 

blessing ; — ' and to me she daily admonishing his spouse, he had 

gain, renewing her interrupt- never yet associated ought more mor- 

5f lamentation. tal with a female form than an insub- 

il hae me,' said another rustic, ordinate tongue — he overlooked, there- 

i oowes Cromby, and Cromby fore, his imminent and instant dan- 

fte Diel — conscience, ye little ger, and still gaaed aghast on the old 

xnmer, I ken that gleg tongue man, who stood a perfect personifies- 

block een owre weel to be tion of serenity. ' Shoot wha,' said 

out o* our errand wi* a tale o' the first rustic, to the exclamation of 

ad hardship— I'se warrant ye his leader, ' shoot auld honest Willie, 

forgot how ye wheedled Kate wha has held the name of Nivieson in 

f t my ain cousin, out o' her parritch spoons for seventy years and 

wd and calimanco petticoat, seven. I'd as soon cock my carbine 

pied tale o* bridal broosc and at ane o' the seven stars,' The dam* 

throwing— an* the quean's as sel, at the sight of this staunch aux« 

rt as a neighbourless stocking iliary, resumed her seat, but not her 

w ye nicked me— even I ray- song ; and her grandfather, coming 

louce person an' a sponsible forward to his guests, said he would 

sting the cups anent the like- gladly learn to what accident he owed 

>' ought kything atween Peg their presence in a poor roofless houff, 

> the mantua-maker, and ye where he had been bewildered and 

—an* coost me, ye kutty, out storm-sted. ' Indeed, then, Willie, 

ie half crown.' When this as ye spier a fair question, I'se be 

accusation was ended — and bauld to tell ye ;' said the rustic who 

ly gypsey protectress only an- had amused bonny Kate with delud- 

tj a more sorrowful quaver in ing the maiden called Katherine Kiss- 

gp the chieftain concluded it away with visionary bridals, ' ye ken 

; reasonable he should awake, the cry of the Galloway dames to their 

cdingly he arose slowly — with stray hens when the gypsies light 

groan, laying aside mantle and their fires i* the woods, ' chuckle, 

more erect, till at chuckie, chuckie tappenie, say I may, 

_ stood upright on the floor, —our new come neighbours like fea- 
tiiig his eyes on our visitants, thered flesh our weel.' A weel, Wil- 
li well- feigned surprise, ' His He, ye canna help an ill name — some 
i be here — where come ye frae handy rinabout had emptied our 
ome ye for good — na but his laird's hen-bawks yestreen, as clearly 
utile me and my twa bairns.' as fifty foumarts, and back came the 
expected though humble ad- same reckless necr-do-gude to nights— 
allied the laird, armed and i* the very midst o' the thunder and 

164 Mark Macrmbin, the Cameronian. EM*) 

fire, as if it had been a planned thing bite's dangerous.' In this oonnsei the 

wi* auld spunkie, to make a like at* laird perceived something thai duttin 

tempt on our laird's roosts of fat ed instant consideration and eornpK- 

capons. But bide awee — the chap ance, in token of which lie sheathed 

wha tried it didna ken the laird— » his sword, said he saw no harbour fbr 

draw ane o' his capon's necks, an' try runagates here, and, leading out hit 

to draw a drap o' nis dearest blude-^ armed domestics into the moonlight, 

carry awa ane o' his fat turkeys, an* began to march homewards* Jamie 

ye had better carry awa the lady o' Nivieson whispered to the old man si 

Caponcrapin herself, wi' her seven lad he passed, ' Make yersel some, W8U 

weans— whom the neighbours aye lie— make yersel scarce— the coofo' 

number wi' his chickens, as they are Cajponcrapin's gane an 9 gladly, bit 

all alike dear— whare should the laird yell soon see a mair determined chieki, 

be lying, think ye, when this capon- whose smallest word is ' whip/ and 

reaver came— whare, but where the whose commonest word h * hang,'— 

auld sang says— ye guess wha I mean— d'ye ken Cws- 

* Wharll our gude man lie an CoUiesott.'— And away rut the 

Till he shoot owre the simmer ? rustic, concealing, as he went, hftj&a* 

Up aboon the hen-hawks dozen good green honi-spooae, wWi 

Amang the rotten timmer.' which the gypsey damsel r ew ar ded hh 

c And well fbr me,' exclaimed the kindness. 

laird—' and well fbr my many capons " No sooner had the sound of octr un- 
which I have tenderly hatched — care- welcome visitors' footsteps died away, 
fully cut, and anxiously rattened— than the chieftain said, ' Now, Kate, 
well for us all that I lay among their my winsome bairn, and mvbanld ane, 
roosts to-night— else, instead of being make ready my poor auld ass, and 
killed, and dressed, and eaten, with we'se even forsake this hazardous 
culinary skill, and with Mr Marietta's place— that gowk, Deil gin he were 
famous sauce, as they shall infallibly drowned in Dryie, that the place 
be— they would have fluttered to that produced might quench his 
death in, some tinkler's dirty bag, and folly, instead o' leading nis {mrsuera 
walloped amang kale and castocks in a wild goose chase by water end 
his cauldron.' ' To make a lang wood, away came he direct for th» 
tale short,' said the first rustic, accus- den of refuge, where, wi' canniegttid* 
tpmed to interrupt the laird, who was ing, wi* might hae dwalt the feck ©' 
never known to finish his tale when a month, and lived on the fatness of 
the mystery of capon fattening was his Nithsdale. Aweel I we maun w a y* 1 
theme, except when the fowls reeked, we maun wag, and that soon and. aud- 
io all the richness of preparation, on den. Mind, Kate, my bairn, to drap 
the dinner table—' to make a lang tale something i' the road fbr douce Jamie 
short, the loon had but drawn the Nivieson to find— hut for him we 
necks o' three, when the fourth cried might hae been hard bested. And 
' chuck,' and the laird cried ' raur- now Mark, my young lad,' continued 
iter.* The knave ran, and we ran— the gypsey chief, turning to me, 'ye 
we chased him into this wood, and the had nae better abide the coming end 
deil that drave him there may drive the wrath o' Cursan CoUieson ; come 
him out again for me.' During these with us up amang the mountains tnl 
disclosures, the old man held up his the doud flies past— and then if ye 
hands, and looked on one, and looked like our calling, e'en come and live 
on another, in blank and innocent a- and laugh amang us; and wha kens 
mazement. The rustic, who sooke but ye might win the loove o' my sin 
last, led the laird aside, and said in a sonsie Katherine.' * The love o' me/ 
whisper, ' If ye were to hing the auld said the gypsey damsel, with a look of 
man on the highest tree i' the wood, compassion to her grandfather, and of 
and drown the damsel in the deepest insufferable scorn to me, ' and bear 
pool i' the water, there would be as the budgets of a Cameronian psalm* 
meikle o' the deevil left, else I'm sadly singer — a raw haspan of a callan ! he 
deceived, as would ding the roof of might mind o' that— hell be aulder 
yere home about yere lugs, and rax gin simmer, «a the sang says. But 
yere ain neck as lang as ever ye raxed whan will he have the right heart 
a capon's— sae come away, and let the and the ready hand ; and aboon a*, 
dour fox die in his den, for his death will he love to dwall i' the hollow o* 

1890.3] Adventure wiih ike Gypsies. 165 

the wild wood— roam on the bank of came from the passage, (called by the 

sane lonesome burn, and pitch his old man the 'fause ford') mingling 

Union tome wild and steep moun* with the plunging and braying of 

tiin ? Can he bear the ecofls that we asses, and the cheers and entreaties of 

sunn bear ? Can he loup shcep-faulds, men. The chieftain, with a cry of 

level amang hen-roosts, ana gather indescribable anguish, called out, 

tmbs and pears for his joe and his ' Oh ! rin, rin T that's cither the 

ling, like my cannie cousin, Tarn wraiths of my drowned bairns wel- 

llaiahall ? Say nae mair about it— coming me, or the yell of suffering 

though I canna help thinking, wi* flesh and blood.' And down we ran 

donee guiding amang cannie hands, towards the ford, the old man fore- 

lomething ought be made of him, most, for the agony of spirit added 

bat never a man for me.' During unusual swiftness to his feet— a 

this conversation/the relics of our doomed man runs swift to des* 

estahnahment were gathered together, traction. He reached the river as 

packed into the panniers of the old soon as me— a fearful scene presented 

aian's ase, and, with the halter of the itself. Men and women and aases 

smaaal in his hand, forth he walked were struggling in the middle of the 

once more into the moonlight air, fol- deep and rapid current. I saw die 

lowed by hia descendant and me. We Galwegian gypsev up to his leathern 

instantly dived into the bosom of the girdle in the flood, leading two asses, 

woody wound our way through the on which women were seated— the 

ireen and winding avenues, and at cousin of Kate Marshall succeeded in 

hat, emerging into the free and open the same order— the desperado of 

country, ascended a small hillock, and Dryfe followed, conducting the re* 

began to look around* At our feet mainder of the horde, and they all 

the Nith, swollen with the heavy seemed in immediate pcriL When 

thunder shower, came down from her the unhappy old man saw the jeo- 

uplands, lifting her voice for above partly of all nis dependants, he forgot 

ks usual mild and gentle tone into an nis age and infirmities, and tbe depth 

tP^T dash from bank to bank, and violence of the current, ' Bairns ! 

standing sullen and deep. The moon, bairns!' he called loudly, and in a 

rihumenng along its reddened and un- tone of the deepest pathos, ' keep to* 

jawing ftorface, showed an unusual gether — keep yere heads up the flood 

expanse of water— the wooded banks, —cling to the brutes, and let world's 

Irawncd with the swelling of the gear gang.' 

load, and high beyond all the dark "Tneo'ennastering fears of the Man 

heathery hills of Closeburn, shining in of Dryfe rendered this counsel of 

Squid light. The old man gazed on importance. When he felt the rapid 

the troubled river, and smiting both under current of tbe river whirling 

drighe with hia expanded palms, said, the large pebbles from below his feet, 

• Cm! bairns, bairns ! just on sic a heard the asses bray, and the women 

night did I lose twa o' my fairest sons ! scream, all reflection forsook him, be 
seventeen, the other aeven-and- cried, ' Oh to be haurning bread at 
r,arossing this bonny, but bloodic my aunt's hearthstane,' and finally 
; and my gray hairs would he lifted up his voice and wept. At 
be added to their raven locks the same tune he quitted the halters 
I to dare the awfu' flood to* of the asses which he led, and the 
n%ht— and cross it we maun in some whole detachment was thrown into 
my or other.' We all stood several confusion. One ass, witliout panniers, 
linn***, looking on the stream, and was instantly swept away, the women 
the old man resumed. ' That's the raised a loud shriek, and the raisera- 
fooae ford foment us. It has a bonny ble chieftain made an instant dash to 
and r*w?"»"g look, but few who ride their assistance from the bank of the 
it live to loose it. A gude bowshot river. He soon required tbe aid he 
below Is the kindly ford— it looks so unavailinglv offered to others. The 
broad and burly ; but I have never place into which he plunged was (par- 
wet my foot in that water since I lost Ocularly when the river was swollen,) 
my bonny bairns.' And he turned a deep and dangerous eddy, or whirl 
the bead of hia ass to the kindly ford, occasioned by the weight of water 
and we prepared to follow. At this flung against the sure-rooted trunk of 
moment, anrkk succeeding shriek an old oak that projected far into th& 

166 Mark Macrabin, Ike Cameronian. Z)&*J 

stream. This land abutment threw had fbYded the river, with the Ion of 
back the flood into the main body of a pannier, and a teething cauldron, 
the current, narrowing its channel As they ascended the bank, Maesrab, 
and increasing its rapidity. In a wholly ignorant of the fate of his 
moment he was carried off his feet, leader, turned round, and cried across 
and though he clutched his arms the river, at the moment I carried the 
around the neck of his faithful old female sovereign of the tribe op tha 
ass, such was the force of the stream, bank, ' Bide ye there, auM man, and 
that he was instantly borne down, my winsome young lass, and 1*0 bring 
his loose dress and long hoary hair ye o'er this fause flood, as safe as Ifre 
floating and mingling like drift leafs had the wings o 9 water hens. 9 He 
on the surface of the water. Regard- changed his voice in a moment, and, 
less of danger, I leaped from the bank turning to his companions, said, ' Bin, 
with a plunge into the current, seized Tarn, rin, Dryfe Dub, deevil's yeVe 
the poor old man, who wasnowdisen- name? kep at the ford, or the sold 
gaged from the ass, and certainly man 11 be drowned !* And then, tying 
would have gained the shore, had not the halters of two of the s tro ng es t 
the deep love of his granddaughter, asses together, he gained the bank at 
which I have heard preserved his life my feet ' Mark, Cameronian, or 
upon another occasion, caused it to be wnatever they call ye,* said he, leaning 
lost now. She stood on the steep on the turf, ' guide that poor maiden 
bank above, as motionless as a statue, kindly,' and down the pool aide he 
her lips apart and quivering with flew, to look for the body of his vena* 
agony, and her large dark eyes, dilated rable leader. He returned in a mo* 
beyond their usual size, seemed glazed ment, ' He will be whirled o*er by 
aa ice. She lifted her hands, and she the thrawart current to the other aide, 
tried to speak, at last she shrieked out, there's noe doubt o* that, aae* come 
' save him, oh save him,* and, leap- awa' Kate, my winsome lass, 9 said he 
ing from the bank, wreathed her to the living but senseless maiden, 
arms round him, and placed herself and taking her in his arms, we all 
and me in the greatest peril. Twice forded the river a little lower down, 
the force of the stream heaved us all and reached the opposite side in safe- 
over, the old man was unable to as- ty. Here we found the whole tribe 
aist himself, and his faithful grand- in active search for the body of the 
daughter was senseless and suffocated old man, and the roan of Dryfe Dab, 
with the water. I made one desperate forgetting his fears, joined actively hi 
effort ; already we were borne to the the look out in the ford. The Gal- 
brink of a deep impassable pool ; I wegian committed the damsel to my 
saw no chance of saving all, so, care, who was fast recovering, ana 
seizing the maiden by the hair, joined his friends in the search. The 
and clutching my right arm round clouds now began to return and thick* 
the bough of an elm tree, that hung en on the tops of the hills, and one 
low ana far over the stream, I sue- large and black, came edging upon 
ceeded in gaining the bank. Ere this the moon, gradually lessening thesplen- 
was accomplished, I saw the old man, dour of the beautiful planet. Assist* 
for the last time, rise half above the ed by her imperfect light, I could 
water, his hands held up more like still see the gypsies straggling about 
hands of a man in prayer, than in the border, and even some in the 
agony. The moon shone full on his middle of the ford, and I heard the 
face, over which his thin hair stream- voice of the Galwegian, repeatedly 
ed ; it was turned on us ; and I heard admonishing them to look dote to 
a voice, something like human speech the water. At last the man of Dryfe 
and the murmuring of waters, say, shouted out, ' Here's the auld ass 
• Bless ye, my bairn, bless ye !•— As howsever ; dom me if it is nae ; dower 
he uttered this, he was swept into the glegly, its rider canna be far aff ; we 
deep pool, and farther attempts to ken a' they were cronies.' ' Ttit 
save him were abandoned. Mean- tent o't/ said the Galwegian, in a 
time the coolness, and courage, and tone of sympathy, ' I'll bowk it a 
strength, of the redoubted Galwegian graff wi* my am twa hands, rather 
Macgrab, had saved the rest of the than it should feast the corbies, and 
horde from the dangerous situation in tak' tent o' ye're mirth, my man, this 
which they were placed, and they is nae time for dafhV, an' daffin too 

18100 Adventure with the Gypsies. 167 

at ye're tin misdeeds ; carry ye're marking a neighbouring tree with the 
eaama cannie, die the sowther will initials of his name, ana collecting all 
atand ye, d'ye understand the gypsey's the diminished property of the tribe 
proverb/ To this admonition and together, the forlorn gypsies sat down 
threat, the desperado answered with on a green hillock, to consult on the 
i suppressed laugh, and the search present pressure of their affairs. The 
omtmued. The gypsey women, who granddaughter of their chief sat in 
sad been all this while preparing their the midst, with his silver mounted 
equipage for marching, disordered and pistols at her belt, and all the rest 
aVauariahed by their adventure in the seated themselves in order around, 
river, came to the margin of the water, I stood and awaited the result The 
ad taking away the chieftaineas, left chieftainess was the first that spoke— 
Be at Kberty, so down I went to the ' To you, Mark, my man— Camero- 
ftrd to asaut in the search. Just as nian I should call thee— I owe my 
I leached the margin of the stream, life ; and to thee, Robin Macgrab, I 
the nan of Dryfe stooped into the owe all the rest. I canna hae ye baith 
aster, with a loud unearthly laugh, — it's against a' rule, though in a dis- 
smd called out, ' Here's a prize or tressed state like mine, it ought to be 
dam me than/ and he lifted the allowed. However, I maun tak the 
body of the poor old man half out of tane o' ye ; that's set and settled — sae 
the river, gazed at it for a moment on thee my choice lights— rise, and 
vim grievous disappointment, and, come and sit aside me,' — and up rose 
easting it at his feet in the flood, said, the Galwegian, in great delight, and up 
'God, it's the drowned carle; I thought rose the whole of the tribe in stern 
it wo the tool bag, dom me if I did- and sudden anger. I expected an im- 
nae f The Galwegian Macgrab waxed mediate battle— but the prowess of 
red with wrath, and, uttering a deep the new chief, and the determined 
and deadly imprecation, rushed across character of the young cheftainess, pre- 
the find upon nis Dryfesdale associate, served order, if they failed to com- 
and felled nim into the water with a mand respect ' I shall wander nae 
blow of his fist. He instantly caught langer wi* ane sac witless, and wi* so- 
up the drowned body of his chief, ither sae rash,' said one gypsey, 
bore it out to the green bank, the mounting his panniers, and departing 
horde gathered with a wail and a by himself. His defection was fbllow- 
moan around it, and endeavoured in ed by others— one marched up the 
vain to restore him to life. His un- river, another marched down, and a 
happy granddaughter threw herself third took the road for the hills of 
bende him, and lay as mute and as mo- Closeburn and Kirkmohoe. The cou- 
tiooleas as the corpse. Macgrab look- sin of bonny Kate himself alone re- 
ed on the body with a race of deep mained with the new heads of the 
and composed grief, and then on the tribe — but his adherence was more 
unhappy young woman, whom the from affection to the family name, and 
rest or the females were endeavouring the blood of kindred, than to the chief 
to aooth. ' Weel wad it be for who commenced the Galwegian dvn- 
thee,' lie said, ' and weel wad it be for astv. ' Thank ye, my kind cousin/ 
me, did we baith grace ae grave, wi' said the chieftainess, ' thank ye for 
the poor mild man aside us, but I no ganging growling awawi'thae sack* 
camta forget the faithful brute beast less coofs— to seek your fortune osun- 
either/ and up the bank he pulled der frae the lawful head o* your house 
the dead ass, and hud it on the sward —and amang the cauld-heartedfremit. 
by die aide of its master. All this I hae a bonnie loove-letter to shew ye 
while, the unfortunate man of Dryfe —it cam frae a southern branch o* our 
was allowed to float, stunned and name that flourishes in the braw fb- 
senseless, down the river, and I never rests ayont the Tweed.' So aaj 
heard a single remark made on his she produced from her girdle a bright 
absence, except a brief sentence from piece of copper, on which was rudely 
the Galwegian, ' Let him sink or etched a very singular scene. Under 
swoom; a doomed man's easily drown- a large forest tree sat a numerous and 
ed.* busy group, with a cauldron suspend- 
" It was about three o'clock in the ed over a fire — there were baskets with 
monung, when, after interring the old fish and fowl, and all the indications 
man and his ass in the river sand, of gypsey wealth; a fat buck m& vw 


Iff Mark Macrabin, thi Cameraman. 

the very situation of being dissected, quaintance, and sair am I reived that* 

while another back bounded past, in* a maw-white akin and a gut o* psalsx*- 

vitiag, by the backward cart of his ainging should sunder us. Take tliia 

eye, the level carabines of the trihe. token o v kindness, Mark, my man,*— — 

' There's a handsome invitation for presenting me with an old Highland 

us/ said the cheiflainess, submitting purse, far from empty, and a doaen of 

the hieroglyphic document to the do- the old chieftain's very best 

l:~l.+~1 : nM v«^*: MM *P 1mm ^v.««: M ami t a M J +alri» frkio tru\ » <m««l nil 

land, and a fair/ said the cousin of find red gowd in'tr-nor ait and gaunt 

bonny Kate. ' A land where there's o'er an empty spoon/wend away node 

plenty for a' end rule for me/ said the the young cmeftainess, and her lord 

chieftainess, rising an inch in stature and dependent, into the vale of Kirk- 

with every word sue spoke, and holdV mahoe, to pass towards the border; and 

ing her aoeptre in imagination over the away walked I to the mountainous — 

whole ancient domain of Robin Hood; gions of the upland parishes in on 

* but I maun part wi' a young ao- of a flock that lacked a shepherd. 


But few words are necessary to inform or remind our readers of the circum- 
stances which brought forward Mr Davison and Mr FhiUpotts as antagonists 
of a certain doughty Edinburgh Reviewer, who has of late reaped more bio 
than laurels in the field of controversy. On the 2 1st of October last, there 
holden a meeting of die county of Durham, at which were moved certain 
solutions respecting the Manchester meeting of the 16th of August, and some 
speeches delivered, (more especially one by Mr Lambton, member for the 
county) distinguished by any other qualities than those of Judgment, know- 
ledge, and discretion. Mr Phillpotts addressed a letter to the Freeholders on 
the proceedings of that meeting, remarkable not only for its spirit and its 
eloquence, but also for an intimate acquaintance with the laws and constitu> 
tion of his country. That letter (along with another by Mr Davison) was re- 
viewed by Mr Brougham ; and, according to that gentleman's unfortunate ha- 
bits of scurrility, the most foul and vulgar abuse was flung on the personal 
character of its author. Mr FhiUpotts, who is known, not in his own county 
alone, as a clergyman of the most mild and courteous manners— but all over 
England, as a most accomplished scholar— was designated by his classical op- 

Sment as " a foul-mouthed Parson !" Mr FhiUpotts published a Letter to his 
eviewer, in which he completely vindicated himself from the charge of per- 
sonality, most ludicrously brought against him by Mr Brougham, and also 
joined issue with that great constitutional lawyer on some not unimportant 

Suestions connected with the practice and theory of government, Mr 
reugham, somewhat nettled to be set right, on noints of law, by a divine, 
thought that he could do no less than crush Mr FhiUpotts under a ponderous 
note in the Edinburgh Review ; and, accordingly, that is supposed to have 
been effected by that memorable and well-timed Article in the last Number of 
that Work, entitled, " On the recent Alarms." Mr Phillpotts, however, is 
not to be disposed of so easily — and rising up, unscathed from the rubbish of 
the Reviewer, he once more meets hie antagonist— and, unless we are greatly 
mistaken indeed, leaves him hors de combat. Such is our general impression 
of this contest; but whatever may be the opinion of our readers respecting the 
merits of the case, this much is indisputable, that Mr FhiUpotts proves the 
utter falsehood of Mr Brougham's charges against his personal character, by the 
dignified language which he adopts towards him, language which forms a strik- 
ing contrast to the coarse invective with which be nad been assailed by Diet 
great Master of the Vulgar Tongue. 

It may not be amiss to mention, that, while Mr Brougham was lauding the 
prudence of Mr Davison in remaining silent under the castigatkm his inexor- 
able hand had inflicted upon him — that gentleman published an Answer to the 
*es in die Edinburgh Review, so complete at all points, that the lawyer 

Remarks <m a Note in the Edinburgh Review. 109 

one the Mute before him whom he had somewhat sneeringly, bat very 
knominated the " Lending Logidm of Oxford." 


int prevented me, till within cribable, may be more apparent pre* 

ew days, from reading a note in sently. Respecting facts, I hare aU 
it Number of the Edinburgh ready found this magnanimous gen* 
r, which, however unworthy of tleman so much more inclined, (per- 
oo its own account, derives haps because better qualified) to make 
mportance from the wide dr- hardy assertions, than to defend them, 
d of that Journal. that I no longer think it necessary to 
tone in which it is written contradict him. 41 I would defV any 
the task of replying to it ra- other person to adduce a single fact 
ficnlt. My Critic, naring to affirmed by me of the unhappy event 
himself against the serious at Manchester, which has been dat- 
es? fabricating opinions for me, proved by the evidence on the recent 
he had no pretence for suppos- trial But it is time to advert to the • 
it I held, and of assailing mc Reviewer's law. 
inch contempt for holding them, His first step ia in strict accordance 
es over the charge altogether, with his usual tactic: he mis-states 
swers mc with new and coarser the question, and misrepresents his 
we. Here this matter must opponent's argument. Tne point at 
An anonymous writer, who pre- issue between us (very unimportant 
so far on his incognito, as to to the main subject) was this: Can 
rfsh affected indifference an ex- the offence of " conspiring to alter 
aapsachment of his honour and the laws by intimidation and fores'* 
j, is beyond the reach of ordi- be charged as a misdemeanour? My 
affection. Reviewer, t with some scorn, said that 
;tbe Reviewer commits himself " it cannot; for that is High Trea- 
kgal argument, — much to the son." To this I replied by shewing, 
Assent of his admirers, who see on the authority of Mr Justice Foster, 
Milling but an occasion of signal that a constn'ractf to effect an tnsurrec- 
ah* Among others, Mr Lamb- /ton, for tne purpose of altering the 
ikes the opportunity to array established law, is not High Treason. 
If in some portion of the glories It follows, therefore, & fortiori, (though 
friend. That gentleman, in an I did not stop to draw the conclusion)} 
i, which has been printed and that the more vague and general 
Med in divers newspapers, is re- charge of " conspiring to alter tne law 
t to hare thus spoken of " a by intimidation and force," which does 
ions reverend political partizan" not necessarily even imply insurreo- 
of the mildest descriptions by tion, is not High Treason, 
i be isjpleased to designate me) : My Critic, in his new attack, first 
smwOhng aa he is to trample on represents me as " persisting to say*. 
Hi enemy,' he must say, that that the offence of conspiring to levy 
rhole contents of my pamphlet war within the realm is a miademean- 
been falsified or coniuted,---that our ;" and then cites the Statute of 
fcrcgious ignorance of the law of the 36th of the late King, as having 
iisjfion has been sufficiently ex- made such a conspiracy to be High 
e l sew he re, (meaning, I conceive, Treason. 

m Review), and that my facts Now, supposing the question to be 

been disproved by the evidence correctly stated by him, I must tell 

S trial at York. To whom ig- him, that either he is ignorant of the 

ee of the law is most justly as- effect of the Statute which he cites, or 

Er !,!"»**"" having from the hustinss at Durham declared to a very large assembly, 
bad pifrKfE— * " a slanderous falsehood" respecting him, I applied to him to " spe- 

hst was the assertion of mine which he thus cha r acte ri zed, m order that I might 

rcttact, explain, or justify it** To this application he sent me an evasive answer : 
r rtiffl s ling ™i he took refuge in silence. 
1*1X1?. p. 446. 

170 Remark* on a Note in the Edinburgh Review. play \ 

has wilfully mis-stated it This tern- to treat therefore the offence in quest** 

porary law does not make the offence at a misdemeanour. 
of conspiring to levy war, generally, I have now done with this " Hon- 

to be High Treason. It leaves many ourable and Learned Gentleman." 

cases, in which the conspiring to levy When next he volunteers his serried 

war is not High Treason. In truth, in defence of a bad cause, he will do ^ 

its main, though not its sole, opera- well to confine himself to scurrility. 

lion is to make those acts, which were There he has no equal Let him not 

before judicially held to be overt acts rashly seek to pervert law or logic to 

of compassing the King's death, and, his unworthy purposes. In those de» 

as such, Treason, to be, of themselves, pertinents he ought to have leaned 

substantive Treasons. For the accu- long ago, that something more is ne- 

racy of this interpretation, I refer to cessarv than a confident air, and an 

the able discussions of the Bill in unbridled tongue. And even when be 

Parliament, when such was affirmed calls in fraud and fiction to his aid, 

to be its effect by Mr Pitt, the Master he may find it convenient to avoid 

of the Rolls, and the Attorney Gene- giving his opponent an opportunitv of 

ral, (the present Lord Chancellor,) sifting particulars. The best method 

and admitted to be so by Mr Fox and will be to deal in generals ; he may 

Mr Sheridan. The Attorney General then safely rely on the malice of some 

defied any lawyer to affirm that it of his readers, and the carelessness of 

went further, and Mr Erskme was others, to ensure a temporary effect to 

silent under die defiance. the most unprincipled ribaldry he can 

Thus I would argue against the produce. 
Reviewer, even if his statement of the Before I conclude, I will add one 

question were correct. But, as he word to the Editor of the Review, 
well knows, this is far from being the That he is answerable for all that 

case. The real question was (in the appears in it, will not be disputed. 

Reviewer's own words) about " a He is a man of high and (I doubt not) 

conspiracy to alter the law by intimi- merited reputation, a man of honour 

dation and force," which does not ne- and of liberal feelings. Let me then 

cessarily imply the intention of levy- calmly remind him of the discredits* 

ing war at all. It might contemplate hie light, in which he is exhibited by 

measures of a much less violent cha- this discussion. He appears in it as a 

racter ; such, for instance, as restrain- willing instrument to give currency to 

ing particular Members of Parliament, the base effusions of another man's 

or extorting an oath, or a promise, malignity : he has allowed his Jour- 

from a Prime Minister, or other lead- nal, professing to discharge the dudes 

ing individuals of weight and in- of fair and equal criticism, to be made 

fluenee. the vehicle of wilful mis-statements. 

Lastly, even if it were admitted and of the most glaring injustice : he 

that such a conspiracy amounts to has permitted gross personal insults to 

High Treason under the 36th of Geo. be offered under the sanction of his 

III. still the Reviewer is wrong, un- authority, to one, whose profession, 

less it be absolutely necessary to charge and, I will add, whose character, would 

it as High Treason, in other words, have protected him from all indignity 

unless an Indictment for Misdemean- at the hands of an honourable or man- 

our would, in such a case, of course ly opponent. 

be bad. Now, so far is this from Whether Mr Jeffrey finds any d|s- 

being the fact, that there is an ex- grace in all this, is a matter of much 

press * clause in this very Statute, more importance to him, than it 

leaving it open to prosecute any of- be to me. 

fence within its provisions by inforraa- H. P. 

tkm or indictment at the common law, College, Durham, April 93, 18*0, 

The Penitent Son. 171 


See the Elder'* Death-Bed, in No XXXVI. 

brings to those who have been ascends above the dark green Syca- 

eading its approach, by the more, in whose shade that solitary 

of one tenderly beloved, a dwelling sleeps ! This little world is. 

which nature feels most gra- filled to the brink with happiness — for 

lief from the load of sorrow, grief would be ashamed to sigh within 

re yet hear the faint murmurs the still enclosure of these pastoral hills, 

nexpired breath, and see the Three little months ago, and in that 

at of the unclosed eyes — we cottage we stood together— son, dauch- 

i agony all the slightest move- ter, grandchild, pastor, and friend— 

f the sufferer, and to save the by the death-bed of the Elder. In 

lend or of parent, wc ourselves thought, arc we still standing there ; 

lost gladly die. All the love and that night of death returns upon 

i our hearts are capable belongs me, not dark and gloomy, but soft, 

t to one dearest object ; and calm, and mournful, like the face of 

which perhaps a few days be- heaven just tinged with moonlight, 

e prized as tne most delight- and here and there a solitary star, 

earth's enjoyments, seem, at The head of the old man lay on its 

fill crisis, unworthy even of pillow stiller than in any breathing 

tions of a child. The blow is sleep, and there was a paleness on his 

ind the sick-bed is a bier. But face that told the heart would beat 

Sen not the souls of them who no more. We stood motionless as in 

to fall into an abyss of despair, a picture, and looked speechlessly 

ing whom for so many long on each other's countenance. " My 

; have loved and reverenced, grandfather has fallen asleep," said the 

- a^u.1, „«»„„ ♦„ rt*m;* v " lovin 3 toy, in a low voice, uncon- 

et through nature to eternity, ^^ Ubingi in hig simplify, ^ % 

survivors are left behind in sublime scriptural expression for death. 

1 resignation to the mysterious The mother, unable to withhold her 

sobs, took her child by his little hand, 

ind death walk through this and was leading him away, when at 

land in hand. Young, old, once the dreadful truth fell upon him, 

uel, wise, foolish, good, and and he knew that he was never again 

-all at last patiently submit to to say his prayers by the old man's 

arable law. At all times, and in knees. " On ! let me kiss him— once 

9, there are the watchings, only — before they bury him in the 

pings, and wailings of hearts cold earth ;" and in a moment, the 

or about to sever. Vet look golden curls of die child were mixed 

tdscape or city — and though with the gray hairs of the lifeless aha* 

ind sickness, and death, be in dow. No terror had the cold lips for 

stand woods, and solitary places him ; and closely did he lay his cheek 

the hills — among the streets so smooth to those deep wrinkles, on 

squares, and die magnificent which yet seemed to dwell a last lov- 

s of princes; yet the great ing smile. The father of the boy 

it of life is triumphant, and gazed piteously upon him, and said 

ems no abiding place for the unto himself, " Alas ! he hath no love 

nf decay. to spare for me, who have so long for- 

lonesome cottage of the Hazel gotten him. Jamie — my little Jamie !" 

Wen now is the merry month cried he now aloud, " thou wouldst 

passing brightly over thy not weep so were I to die— thou 

braes ; and while the linnet wouldst not kiss so thy own father's 

earth, the lark replies to him lips if they were, as these are, colder 

tven. The lambs are playing and whiter than the clay !" The child 

unshinc over all thy verdant heard well, even where he lay on the 

nd infant shepherd and shep- bosom of that corpse, the tremulous 

arc joining in their glee, voice of his father ; and nature stirring 

ia there a cloud in the soft strongly within his heart towards him 

iky— save where a gentle mist of whose blood he was framed, he 

wi. y 

iTt Tht Penitent Son. 0&*T 

lifted up his sullied free from the on- ago, I will strive to think of my grand— 
beating bosom, and; gently stealing father without weeping— eye— with— 

himself away from the bed, rushed out shedding one single tear:"- 
into his parent's arms, and lay there here the child, unaware of the roll 
delivered up to all the perfect love of tenderness* *>f his own sinless heart, 
childhood's forgiving heart All his burst out into an uncontrollable flood 
father's frowns were forgotten — his of grief. The mother, happy in her 
sullen looks — his stern words — his sore affliction, to see her darling boy 
menaces, that had so often struck ter- again taken so lovingly to herhusband*s 
tor to his wondering soul— his indif- heart, looked towards them with a 
ference— his scorn, and his cruelty, faint smile,— and then, with a beam- 
He remembered only his smiles, and ing countenance, towards the expired 
the gentlest sounds of his voice ; and saint; for she felt that his dying words 
happy now, as in heaven, to feel him- had restored the sanctities of nature to 
sett no more neglected or spurned, but her earthly dwelling. With gentle 
folded, as informer sweetest days, unto hand, she beckoned the Pastor and 
(ibe yearning bosom of his own kind fa- myself to follow her— and conducted 
ther, the child could bear to turn his us away from the death-bed, into a 
eyes from that blessed embrace, to- little parlour, in which burned a cheer- 
wards the dead old man whom, an ful fire, and a small table was spread 
hour ago, he had looked on as his only with a cloth whiter than the snow, 
guardian on earth besides God, and " You will stay in our cottage all night 
sr hose gray hairs he had, even as an — and we shall all meet together again 
orphan, twined round his very heart, before the hour of rest ;" and so aay- 
t* I do not ask thee, Jamie, to forget ing, she calmly withdrew. 
thy grandfather-— no, we too will often There was no disorder or disarray in 
speak of him, sitting together by the the room in which we now sat. — 
ingle, or on the hillside, — but I be- Though sickness had been in the house, 
seech thee not to let all thy love be no domestic duties had been neglected, 
buried with him in the grave— but to In this room the Patriarch had, every 
keepall that thou canst for thy wretch- evening fur forty years, said family 
ed father." Sighs, sobs, tears, kisses, prayers — and the dust had not been 
and embraces, were all the loving allowed to gather there, though sick- 
child's reply. A deep and divine joy neas had kept him from the quiet 
had been restored to him, over whose nook in which he had so long delight- 
kss often had his pining childhood ed. The servant, with sorrowful but 
wept The beauty of his father's face composed features, brought to us our 
revived-- It smiled graciously upon simple meal, which the Pastor blessed, 
him, as it did of old, when he was not without a pathetic allusion to 
wont to totter after him to the sheep- him who had been removed — and ano- 
fbjd,— -and to pull primroses beneath ther more touching still to them who 
his loving eye, from the mossy banks survived him. That simple but most 
of the little sparkling burn ! Scarcely fervent aspiration seemed to breathe an 
could the child believe in such blessed air of comfort through the house that 
change. But the kisses fell fast on his was desolate, — but a deep melancholy 
brow,— and when he thought that the yet reigned over the hush, and the in- 
accompanying tears were shed by his side of the cottage, now that its an- 
own father, for the unkindness some- dent honour was gone, felt forlorn as 
limes shown to his child, he could not its outside would have done, had the 
contain those silent self-upbraidings, sycamore, that gave it shade and shel- 
but with thicker' sobs blessed him by ter, been felled to the earth. 
that awful name, and promised to love We had sat by ourselves for about 
nlm beyond even Him who was now ly- two hours, when the matron again ap- 
ing dead before their eyes, "I will walk peared; not as when we had first 
along with the funeral — and see my seen her, wearied, worn out, and care- 
grandfather buried, in our own burial- less of herself, but calm in her de- 
place, near where the Tent stands at the raeanour, and with her raiment cfaang- 
Sacrament — Yes, I will walk, my fa- ed, serene and beautiful in the com- 
ther, by your side — and hold one of the posure of her frith. With a soft voice 
strings of the coffin — and if you wQl she asked us to come with her again 
only promise to love me for ever as you to the room where her father lay — and 
now ck>, and used always to do long thither we followed her in silence. 

1880.3 The Penitent Son. ITS 

The body of the old man had been hit old father's broken heart V Tne 

kid out by the same loving hands that big tears, William, plashed like the 

bad so tenderly ministered to all his drops of a thunder-shower on tip 

wants and wishes when alive. The tomb-stone— and, at the time, thy &- 

shroud in which he was now wrapped ther's face was whiter than ashes—* 

bad been in the cottage for many a but a divine assurance came upon his 

long long year, and white as it was, tribulation — and as we walked together 

even as the undriven snow, scarcely from the burial-place, there was a 

was it whiter than the cheeks and the happy smile about his faded eyes, and 

lodes now bound in its peaceful folds, he whispered unto me, ' my boy has 

To the eyes of my childhood, the £1- been led astray, but God will not for* 

der*s face had sometimes seemed, even get that he was once the prop and 

in its benignity, too austere for my pillar of his father's house. One 

eardess thoughts, impressed as it ever Low's sincere repentance will yet 

was with an habitual holiness. But wipe away all his transgressions.— 

aU such austerity, if indeed it had When we parted, he was,- 1 know it, 

been ever there, death had now re- perfectly happy — and happy, no doubt, 

moved from that silent countenance, tie continued until he diea. William ! 

is last moments had been blessed by many a pang hast thou sent to thy 

mason's contrition — his daughter's love father's heart ; but believe thou this, 

—his grandchild's pity — his pastor's that thou madest amends for them all 

pravers. And the profound peace at the hour of his dissolution. Lo6k, 

which his porting spirit had enjoyed, the smile of joy at thy deliverance 

kft an expression on his placid fea- is yet upon his face." 
tares, consolatory and sublime. The son took his hands from before 

Tfie Penitent Son was sitting at the his eyes — gazed on the celestial ex* 

bed-side. We all took our places near pression of his father's countenance— 

him, and for a while remained silent, and his soul was satisfied. 
with eyes fixed on that countenance '' Alas ! alas !'* he said in a humble 

from wmch beamed the best memories voice, " what is reason, such poor 

of earth, and the loftiest hopes of imperfect miserable reason as mine, to 

Heaven. deal with the dreadful mysteries of 

" Hear," said the humbled man, God ! Never since I forsook my Bible, 
" how the thaw is bringing down the has the very earth ceased to shake and 
loosened torrent from tlie hills ! even tremble beneath my feet. Never, since 
so ia my soul flowing within me!" I spurned its aid, have I understood 
" Aye, and it will flow, till its waters one single thought of my own be- 
vt once more pure and bright as wildered heart! Hope, truth, faith, 
those of a summer stream," said the peace, and virtue, allat once deserted me 
Aster with a benign voice. " But together. I began to think of myself 
art thou sure that my father's forgive- as of the beasts that perish ; my better 
nest was perfect ?" " Yes, William, feelings were a reproach or a riddle to 
it was perfect. Not on his death-bed me, and I believed in my perplexity, 
only, when love relents towards all that my soul was of the dust. Yes ! 
objects glimmering away from our Alice, I believed that thou too wert to 
moral eyes, did the old man take thee perish utterly, thou and all thy sweet 
into his heart; but, William, not a babies, like flowers that the cattle- 
day, no, not an hour has passed over hoofs tread into the mire, and that 
these his silvery hairs, in which thy neither thou nor they were ever, in 
father did not forgive thee, love thee, your beauty and your innocence, to 
pray for thee unto God and thy So- see the face of the Being who created 
viour. It was but last Sabbath that you !•' 

we stood together by thy mother's Wild words seemed these to that 

grave, in the lark-yard, after divine high-souled woman, who for years 

Wtinhip, when all the congregation had borne, with undiminished^ nay, 

bad dispersed. He held his eyes on augmented affection, the heaviest of 

that tomb-stone, and said, ' O Hea- all afflictions, that of a husband's alie- 

venly Father, when, through the merits nated heart, and had taught her chil- 

of the iKedeemcr, we all meet again, a dren the precepts and doctrines of that 

family in Heaven, remember thou, O religion which he in his delusion had 

Lord, my poor lost William; let these abandoned. A sense of the fearful 

drops plead for him, wrung out from danger he had now escaped, rod <& 

174 The Penitent Son. O&ay 

the fearful wickedness, brought up seat, and pacing along the floor, " that 
from the bottom of her heart all the these hands are yet unstained by 
unextinguishable love that had lain crime. But oh! how much longer 
there through years of sorrow — and might they have so continued ! Way 
she went up to him and wept upon need the unbeliever care for human 
fais bosom. " Oh ! say it not, that life ? What signifies the spilling of a 
one so kind as thou could ever believe few drops of worthless blood ? Be the 
that I and my little ones would never grave once thought to be the final 
tee their Maker—they who were bap* doom of all — and what then is the 
Used in thine own arms, William, meaning of the word crime? Oes- 
by that pious man, in the name of the perate and murderous thoughts assail- 
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost !" ed me by myself in solitude. — 1 had 
" Yes I my Alice ! I feared so once — reasoned myself, as I thought, out of 
but the dismal dream is gone. I felt my belief in revelation, — and all those 
as if the ground on which this our feelings, by which alone faith is jpossi- 
own sweet cottage stands, had been ble, at the same time died away in my 
undermined by some fiend of dark- heart — leaving it a prey to the wretch- 
ness— and as if it were to sink down edness and cruelty of infidelity. Shapes 
out of sight with all its thatched roof came and tempted me in the moors— 
so beautiful— its cooing pigeons — its with eyes ana voices like, but unlike 
murmuring bee-hives — ana its bloom- the eyes and voices of men. One had 
ing garden. I thought of the genera- a dagger in its hand — and though it 
tions of my fore-fathers that had died said nothing, its dreadful face incited 
in the Hazel Glen— and they seemed me to do some murder. I saw it in 
to me like so many shadows vainly the sunlight— for it was the very mid- 
following each other along the hills, die of the day — and I was sitting by 
My heart was disquieted within me ; myself on the wall of the old sheep- 
for the faith of my childhood was en- fold, looking down in an agony, on 
tertwined with all my affections — with the Hazel Glen where I was born, and 
my love for the dead and the living— where I had once been so happy. It 
for thee, Alice, and our children, who gave me the dagger — and laughed as 
do all resemble thee both in beauty it disappeared. I saw — and felt the 
and in innocence, whether at thy bo- dagger distinctly for some minutes in 
som, or tottering along the greensward, my hand — but it seemed to fall down 
and playing with the daisies in the among the heather — and large blots of 
sun. Such thoughts were indeed blood were on my fingers* An icy 
woven through my heart, and they shivering came over me, though it 
could not be torn thence but by a was a sunny day and without a cloud 
heavy hand. Alice ! the sight of — and I strove to think that a brain- 
thee and them drove me mad; for fever had been upon me. I lay for 
what sight so insupportable to one two days and nights on the hill — and 
who has no hope in futurity as the more than once I saw my children 
smiles and tears of them he loves in playing on the green beside the water- 
his distraction !" all, and rose to go down and put them 

He who spake was no common man to death — but a figure in white — it 

—no common man had been his fa- might be thou, Alice, or an angel, 

ther. And he gave vent to his thoughts seemed to rise out of die stream, and 

and feelings in a strain of impassioned quietly to drive the children towards 

eloquence, which, though above the the cottage, as thou wouldst a few. 

level of ordinary speech, may not un- tottering lambs." 
frequently be heard in the cottage of the During all this terrible confession, 

Scottish peasant, when the discourse the speaker moved up and down the 

is of death and of judgment. All the room, — as we are told of the footsteps 

while that he was speaking, the wife of men in the condemned cell, heard 

kept her streaming eyes close to his pacing to and fro during the night 

nice— the gray-haired Pastor beheld preceding the execution. " Lay not 

him with solemn looks— the mortal such dreadful thoughts to the charge 

remains of his father lay before him of thy soul," said his wife, now great- 

— and, as he paused, there rose the ly alarmed, — " Hunger and thirst, 

sound of the snow-swollen flood. and the rays of the sun, and the dews 

" I call the Almighty to witness," of the night, had indeed driven thee 

«aid the agitated man, rising from his into a rueful fever — and God knows, 

ItiO-J The Penitent Son. 17* 

that the bett of men are often like de- week of gentle and sunny rain had just 

nous in a disease ! M The Pastor, who passed oyer the scenery, and brought 

had not dared to interrupt him during all its loveliness into life. I could 

the height of his passion, now besought scarcely believe that so short a time 

him to dismiss from his mind all such ago the whiteness of winter had 

grievous recollections— and was just shrouded the verdant solitude. Hero 

about to address himself to prayer, and there, indeed, a patch of snow lay 

when an interruption took place most still unmelted, where so lately the 

pitiable and affecting. deep wreathes had been drifted by* 

The door, at which no footstep had the storm. The hum of insects even, 

been heard, slowly and softly oDcned, was not unheard, and through the 

ssd in glided a little ghost, with ashy glitter of the stream the trout was 

ace and open eyes, folded in a sheet, seen leaping at its gaudy prey, as they 

md sobbing as it came along. It was went sailing down the pools with their 

so other than that loving child walk- expanded wings. The whole glen was 

ing in its sleep, and dreaming of its filled with a mingled spirit of pleasure 

grandfather. Not one of us had power and of pensiveness. 
to move. On feet that seemed, in the As we approached the old Sycamore, 

cautiousness of affection, scarcely to we heard behind us the sound of foot- 

touch the floor, he went up to the steps, and that beautiful boy, whom 

bedside, and kneeling down, held up we had so loved in his affliction, came 

his little hands, palm to palm, and up to us, with a smiling face, and 

and a little prayer of his own, for the with his satchel over his shoulder. 

Eft of him who was lying dead within He was returning from school, for the 

the touch of his balmy breath. He afternoon was a naif-holiday, and his 

then climbed up into the bed, and laid face was the picture of joy and inno- 

hanself down, as he had been wont to cence. A sudden recollection assailed 

do, by the old man's side. his heart, as soon as he heard our 

" Never,** said the Pastor, " saw I voices, and it would have been easy 

love like this" — and he joined his sobs to have changed his smiles into tears* 

to those that were fast rising from us But we rejoiced to see how benignly 

all at this insupportable sight. " Oh ! nature had assuaged his grief, and 

if mv biff** child should awake," that there was now nothing in me- 

aridms mother, " and find himself mory, which he could not bear to 

beside a corpse so cold, he will lose think of, even among the pauses of 

bis senses — I must indeed separate his pastimes. He led the way hap- 

bimftomhisdeadgrandfather." Gently pily and proudly, and we entered once 

did she disengage his little hands from more the cottage of the Hazel Glen, 
the shrouded breast, and bore him into The simple meal was on the table, 

the midst of us in her arms. His face and the husband was in the act of 

became less deadly white — his eyes asking a blessing, with a fervent voice, 

fast glaxedly fixed — and, drawing a When he ceased, he and his wife rose 

long, deep, complaining sigh, he at to bid us welcome, and there was in 

last slowly awoke, and looked bewil- their calm and quiet manner an as- 

deredry, first on his mother's face, surance that they were happy. The 

and then on the other figures sitting children flew with laughter to meet 

in silence by the uncertain lamp-light, their brother, in spite of the presence 

" Come, my sweet Jamie, to thine of strangers, and we soon sat all 

own bed, 9 * said his weeping mother. — down together at the cheerful board. 

The husband followed in his love — In the calm of the evening, husband 

snd at midnight the Pastor and myself and wife walked with us down the 

Rured to rest — at which hour, every glen, as we returned to the manse— 

loom in the cottage seemed as still as nor did we fear to speak of that so- 

that wherein lay all that remained on lemn night, during which so happy a 

aula of the Patriarch and the Elder, change had been wrought in a sinner's 

• • • • • heart. We parted in the twilight, 

It wsa on May-day that, along with and on looking back at the Hasel 

my venerable mend, I again visited Glen, we beheld a large beautiful star 

the cottage of the Hazel Glen. A shining right over the cottage. 


Iff Glimpse into the Third Volume of Wranghatri* Works. C^fay 


GbwtiLe Re ads a ! — Hast thou ever subsides at last into a satisfied calm : 
enjoyed the ineffable laxnry of reelin- and then our eyes fix, we cannot tell 
m& as we now do, in a profound Easy- why or wherefore, upon one part of 
Chair, wish thine eyes wandering at our library — perhaps upon one particu- 
infemlff over the compartments of a lar volume. We draw in our outstretcb- 
weU-funrished Beok-case ? Our post- ed feet, that have so long been resting 
sum m bo happily chosen, as to be on the fender — we heave up our head 
shaded, but not hidden, from a bright suddenly from the soft density of the 
tat blagokso fire ; the great Square in hair-matted chair — and, with long 
winch we abide, is hushed ; and that strides crossing the room, we fling 
sort of whispering silence breathes open one of the glass-doors, and pull- 
over our study, that comes with the ing out duodecimo, octavo, quarto, or 
approach of midnight The candles folio, we carry it off, like a prey, back 
gammer somewhat waveringly; for, in into our lair, and, growling over it, 
our drowsy indolence, it was too much make no bones of it whatever, but de- 
ft* us to assail that long wick— but we vour it bodily. 

fcave this instant done so, and what a We have now fastened our eyes, an- 
tars* of new-born light streams over der such circumstances, upon three 
mm dusky room ! — It is a perfect il- well-fed volumes at the extremity o£ 
lstttination !— while the names of fa- die 3d shelf, in the left hand com- 
mons men are seen shining towards psrtment ; and we must make a meal 
m, " tier above tier, in wooden lib- of one of them at the least— that is 
nry of stateliest view." certain — so let it be the third: Come 
~ What is a Balloon, compared to an out gently, then, and without any 
Aasy-Chair? We fly, on the wings of struggle, my worthy friend, and be- 
tllfr poet, over the uttermost parts of have yourself in a manner becoming 
th» earth— we wander, with the philo- your situation. 
80pher,4nsaered academic groves, listen- Now let us see wliat book we have 
iDf the words of wisdom — we retrace, got : " Works of the Rev. Francis 
with the historian, the footsteps of Wrangham, M.A. F.R.S. In Three 
time, and leave behind us cities in Volumes. Vol III. Price £2l 9s." 
tlteir ruins, and nations- decayed, as — And well worth the money too, as 
we advance into the quiet of pastoral any work that was ever published by 
afltf 'patriarchal ages. our good friend, Baldwin. 

WetirimV this 1 an excellent way of Add; first of all, here is a transla- 

oceaetkAally reading a library. It saves tion, into noble English, of Milton's 

one the trouble of opening volume af- " Defensio'Secunda. Often have we 

tier volume, and of turning over the read it ; and, now that all is silent 

leaves. Reading thus loses all that is around us, we shall read aloud, as son- 

merely mechanical about it, and be- orously as we can, that most sublime 

oomes wholly an intellectual labour, burst of exultation which* breaks from 

Tile mind can thus skip over not only Milton on being compared by M. 

pages and chapters, but whole vo- Saumaise to a Cyclops. We have the 

fames/ nay, entire works. The prin- original by heart ; but Wrangham has 

oiple of association is left to operate ott made the English equal the majestic 

a grand scale, and it causes the mind to music of the Roman tongue* • 
keep unceasingly traversing, ascending 

and descending 3000 volumes, (it may "Although H be idle for a man to speak 

bt> foottr case a few more or less) under of his own term, yet since even in this par- 

the- influence of a mysterious sense of tlcnte instanw-Ihave canae of mankrafceasi 

kstdteinore it is grattfied^and leads 8 a mtOTtoftt ^ ecl$ i eft . alIT p Bll0IlitemU 

it oft at lttown pleasure, from sound deem iiie, at the crednloospopulacecf Spam 

M'silenee, and from sunshine into sha- m induced by their priests to believe those 

stow* over an interminable world. whom they call heretics, to be a kind of 

After a revel of this kind, the mind rbinoseros, or a monster with a dog's head. 

* -Sermons Practical and Occasional; Dissertations, Translations, including; New Ver- 
sions of Virgil's Bucolica, and of Milton's Defensio Secunda* Seaton Poems, Ac &c. By 
the Rev. Pianos Wiangham, M.A. P.B.S. of Trinity College, Cambridge, In Three 
Volumes. London ; Baldwin, Cradock, & Joy. 1816., 

1890.3 GHmpte Mo the Third Volume of Wranghamt Works, 177 

By any ooe indeed, who hu seen me, I have held in such veneration, as rather to choose 

never, to die beat of my knowledge, been to arraign heaven itself of injustice, than to 

iismWIi nil aa deformed : whether as hand- deem their blindness as proof of their hav- 

nme, or not, is less an object of my con- ing deserved it. What u handed down to 

corn. My stature, I own, is not tall, but it us respecting the augur Tiresias, is genoral- 

■moacbes nearer to the middle size than to ly known. Of Phineus, Apollonius in his 

the low. Were it, however, even low, I Argonautics thus sung : 

faald in thb ie*eet onW roembk many, __y ^ ^^ ^ 

*» hate eminently dutmgmAed them- ^ lmr . J, „«„„,. 

the* both in peace and in war. Why, in- T» M1M , V«_,i., _,»*:—»».. 

fad. ahoold thatbe called low, which U I* *7 " VSLF tn 7 mm "**"• 

Sckn^kfty for all the puipo*. of E * * U,T * 9 " > *-' »*-*» •"»• 

human exertion ? Neither am I to be pro- Careless of Jove, in conscious virtue bold. 

Bounced very •punv;* having so much His daring lips heaven's sacred mind unfold, 

■nit and strength, that, when my age and The God hence gave him years without de- 

te habits of my life permitted, I daily ac- cay, 

customed myself to the exercise of the But robb d his eye-balls of the plf*««g day* 
mrd in fencing ; and accounted myself, C. &, 
sBuei with that weapon (as I generally Now God himself is truth: the more 
vat) secure in the assault of any man, hand conscientiously, then, any one " unfolds 
to hud, how superior soever he might be in the sacred mind of heaven," the Uker and 
■nacular power. The spirit and the strength the more acceptable must he be to God. To 
remain still unimpaired ; my eyes alone suppose the Deity averse from the commu- 
have sailed : and yet they are as unblemish- nication of truth to his creatures, or to sup- 
cd m appearance, as lucid and as free from pose him unwilling that it should be corn- 
spot, as those which possess the sharpest municatcd in the most extensive degree, is 
tmbjd. In this instance alone am I, most perfectly impious. It implied therefore no 
testtantlj, a deceiver. My * bloodless* guilt in this excellent character, who anxi- 
fera, as be calls it, retains, at the age of ously sought, like many other philosophers, 
more than forty, a colour the very reverse of to impart instruction to mankind, to have 
Ml HlTr and pale, inducing almost every lost his sight I might farther mention 
oat to consider me as ten years younger other names, illustrious for their civil wis- 
tan I really am : neither is my skin dom and heroic exploits ; Timoleon of Co* 
' shrreUedV nor my body in any way con- rinth, the rescuer of his own state and of all 
tncttd. If in any of these circumstances I Sicily from oppression, one of the best, and 
speak not the truth, I should justly iucur in every thing relative to the republic— 
tModieule of thousands of my own coun- the purest of men : Appius Claudius, whose 
trruen, as well as a number of foreigners, patriotic speech in the senate, though it 
vso are acquainted with my person. It may could not restore his own sight, relieved 
Body then oe concluded, what little credit Italy from her great enemy Pyrrhus ; Cav. 
n other t es pe c ts is due to one, who has thus cilius Metcllus, the High Priest, who lost 

rify, in this particular, been guilty his eves in preserving not only Rome, but 

of a noes and wanton falsehood. So much the Palladium also, to which her fate was 

kne I been compelled to state about my attached, and her most sacred vessels from 

on person : of yours, though I have been the flames ; since the Deity has upon so 

MfawwM»il that it is the most contemptible, many occasions evinced his regard for bright 

sod the most strongly expressive of the dis- examples even of heathen piety, that what 

honesty and malevolence by which it is happened to such a man so employed can 

actuated, I am as little disposed to speak as hardly be accounted an evil. Wtiy need I 

others would be to hear. adduce the modern instances of Dandolo, 

Would it were in my power with the the celebrated Doge of Venice, or the brave 

sane facility to refute the charge, which my Bohemian General Zisca, the great defender 

■mffimg adversary brings against me, of of Christianity, of Jerome Zanchius, and 

blindness! Alas! it is not, and I must other eminent divines; when it appears that 

therefore submit to it. It is not, however, even the patriarch Isaac, than whom no one 

miserable to be blind. He only is miser- was ever more beloved by his Maker, lived 

able, who cannot bear his blindness with for some years blind, as did also his son Ja- 

Caiknde: and why should I not bear a ca- cob, an equal favourite with heaven ; and 

umity* which every man's mind should be when our Saviour himself explicitly affirm- 

< Ssri|rB' t r , j on the contingency of its hap- ed, with repard to the man whom he hcal- 

pening, to bear with patience ; a calamity, ed, that neither on account of his own sin, 

to the contingency of which every man, by nor that of his parents, had he been " Mind 
the condition of his nature, is exposed ; and from his birth/' 

vhkh I know to have been the lot of some In respect to myself— I call thec, O God, 
of the greatest and the best of my species ? to witness, who *• tricst the very heart and 
Among those I might reckon many of the the reins/* tliat after a frequent and most 
wisest of the bards of remote antiquity, serious examination and scrutiny of every 
whose loss of sight the Gods nre said to comer of my life, I am not conscious of any 
have compenssted with far more valuable recent or remote crime, which, by its arro* 
eadcanneatit and whose virtues mankind city can have drawn down tita cotaxttaj 

ITS GHmpse into the Third Volume of Wrangham* Works. 0*iiy 

exclusively upon my head. As to what I continue inflexibly the same, and that I 
have at any tone written (for, in reference neither feel nor fear for them the anger of 
to this, the royalists triumphantly deem my God, but on the contrary experience and 
blindness a sort of judgment) I declare, acknowledge, in the most momentous events 
with the same solemn appeal to the Al- of my life, his mercy and paternal hmdnna 
mighty, mat I never wrote any thing of —in nothing more particularly, however, 
the kind alluded to, which I did not at the than in his having soothed and strengthen^ 
time* and do not now, firmly believe to have ed me into an acquiescence in his divine 
been right and true and acceptable to God: will; led me to reflect rather upon whathe hast 
and that, impelled not by ambition, or the bestowed, than what he has withheld ; and 
thirst of gam or of glory, but simply by determined me to prefer the consciousness 
duty and honour and patriotism ; nor witn of my own achievements to the best deeds 
a view (singly to the emancipation of the of my adversaries, and constantly to cherish 
State, but still more particularly to that of the cheering and silent remembrance of 
the Church. So that when the office of re- them in my breast : finally, in respect of 
plying to f The Royal Defence' was public, blindness, to think my own (if it must be 
ly assigned to me, though I had to struggle borne) more tolerable than either theirs, 
with Si health, and having already lost More, or yours. Yours, affecting the in- 
nearly one of my eyes, was expressly fore- most optics of the mind, prevents the per. 
warned by my physicians that, if I under- ception of any thing sound or solid : mine, 
took the laborious work in question, t which you so much abuse, only deprives me 
should soon be deprived of both ; undeter- of the hue and surface of things, and leaves 
red by the warning, I seemed to hear the to my intellectual view whatever they con- 
voice— not of a physician, or from the tain of substance and real value. How 
shrine of JSsculaphis at Bpidaurus, but of many things, in (act, are there, which I 
an internal and more divine monitor : and should not wish to see ; how many, that I 
concaving that by some decree of the fates should wish to see in vain : and how few, 
die alternative of two lots was proposed to consequently, would remain for my actual 
me, either to lose my sight or to desert a enjoyment ! Wretched therefore as you may 
high duty, I remembered the twin destinies, think it, I reel it no source of anguish to 
which the son of Thetis informs us his mo- he associated with the blind, the afflicted, 
ther brought back to him from the oracle of the infirm, and the mourners ; since I may 
Delphi: thus hope, that I am more immediately 
_ % A % under the favour and protection of my 
tu x U>un **«, tUt^ftiF S««««# rtXHiti 0^^ Fmt her. The way to the greatest 
Edfut* m*i ptfm Tpm wkst *&!(**%*- strength, an Apostle has assured ue, lies 
t**** through weakness: let me then be of all 
ilXie* pi» f$s» mtk, ««f ***" «**«» •*■"• men the weakest, provided that immortal 
RtMfU* mJ* Ium/u ftXnt 14 «**{** ymm», „£ fc^ yjgou, txat fo^df ^ ^ ^ffi. 

XIXmv fut mX$h trfet* •« #»fw h pm mun g^y proportioned to my infirmity, provided 

the UgfU of God's countenance shine with in- 

■ As the Goddess spake, who gave me *■■• brilliance upon my darkness. Then 

birth, sna ^ * ** 0DCe °c most feeble and most 
Two fetes attend me whilst I live on earth. mighty, completely blind and thoroughly 
If fix'd I combat by the Trojan wall, sharp-sighted. O may this weakness in- 
Deathless my feme, but certain is my fell : gure m 7 consummation, my perfection ; and 
If I return, beneath my native sky m 7 illumination arise out of this obscurity ! 
My days shall flourish long, my glory die.' In truth, we blind men are not the lowest 

« Reflecting therefore with myself that objects of the care of Providence, who deigns 

._._ — — . — „ u » protected 

opportunity furnished, simply by Incurring ■**• **& almost consecrated from human 

Umdness, of satisfying the demand of the injuries, by th^e ord^ces and fevour of 

most honourable duty— a result more sub- *** Dettv 5 * nd involved m darkness, not so 

and therefore what ought to be by mucn froa j *"* ^perfection of our optic 

every one considered as more satis&ctory powers, as from the shadow of the Creator's 

and more eligible, than glory itself— I de- wings— a darkness, which he frequently rr- 

teimined todScate the brief enjoyment of »*■*?» **» «n inner and far superior light ! 

my eye-sight, to long as it might be spared To tms l refcr the increased kindness, at- 

me, with as much effect as I could to the tentions, and visits of my friends ; and that 

public service, You see then what I pre- * ae are some i ™* * hom J C9n whan S« 

ferred, what I sacrificed, and what were my those accents of real friendship : 

motives. Let these slanderers of the di- OP. 'E^rt **, ««£ mfc (jm, I1T. 4><a« 

vine judgments, therefore, desist from their y «#*> xnhvpmr*. 

calumnies, nor any longer make me the Orest, * Lead on my foot's sure helm !* 

subject of their visionary fantasies ; let them Pyl» * To me dear trust !* 

*rn, in fine, that 1 neither regret my lot, And again : ■■ Ajfc x\* *w»{*«7 

1 repent my choice; that my opinions $**■? : 

Giimjm Mo Urn Third Volutn* of WnngkamU Works. 170 

Sstfc Ml fow hand to rHenojbJp'i Nee Te tamen telluris, ah I ptuDBme, 

nd last grasp.* , Solius adfirmem Patrcm i 

aAi u «_. *-—• £.«,«#* Neve homimbw solis datum TSbi o b at quL 

r^. ** ** ' Tot millia inter arbium. 

■g close to me, and 1 will be tout Minus hex mat coinbeat imbeUii mmai j 

asla.* Neu jactet impar fulmina 

iwmI i»ot regarded m annihilated In omnium capita, Tui quot duxerim 

fruity, or considered as having all Hostes, xerox atqoe insdene. 

i and excellence confined to my Si recta quam dudom tero, Pater, via est, 

ay, our principal puhliccharactert, Tu quseso eandem fac teram : 

that my light had forsaken me, Erraticus am divager, recta meos 

ante of torpid inactivity, but while Tu qussso dirigas pedes. 

^^LSfSS^fSSJ^ QuicquidiiegaritvelTua tapientia. 

Ite^L^nf, ^rffin£ ^carSinduberiti^^ 

mnTiewc/theu^ertaiiityofdi H ^^^ r ^' Upe,Wim * 

imt^lfceyarekindtomeonac- Mud negatum miirmura, 

say past scrviccSf and obligingly Altena foe ut usque defleam mala, 

no with an fgrmptinn famSrtter Aliena peccata ut tegam ; 

not etripping me of my honours, Quamque ipse caster is adhibuerim, mjU 

g away my appointment, not cur* Redhibeto misericordiam* 

\ emoluments ; but humanely con- vilis Beet aim, non tamen vffiasimus, 

hem to me, in my state of re- Cimi spiritus me alat Tuus ; 

fiftj, with precisely the same com- Qressus meos, sire bora detur longior, 

.the Athenians formerly ^paid to give ultima adsit, O regas I 
whom they assigned a subsistence 

iTtaneum. Thus consoled for my Panem mini pacemque lux hex aflerat : 

Mil by God and man, I entreat De carteris securior, 

ait would lament my loss of sight, Permitto Tibi quid conveniat expendere. 

In * cause §o honourable. Far Tua ut voluntas destinet. 

flame me to lament it myself, or to M 

scant readily to despke those who Te » 8UMMK, on templum omrds stfoer qua 

• abr it, or rather the indulgence „ . P** 6 * 

I seemly to forgive them. Cm t« mareoue am, etpolus ; 

s»Uy done-end Btirs the <^P^«eqiusque Masmiiii canat 

frm±\L t%A rtP fcru t! Nature cuncta conanat ! 

MlMmthiiifttmgdwuS^ MrWrengham t^ and feels in 

JamWrtoEngA into Latin, "■y 1 *** prove that he might hare 

Snoooa^tolreprintPope'i ttt > "j™ ™* 1 J^i^Tj^l 

rami Prayer/ for it must bTin ™* "* T^J^J 1 **? ft"?? 

nory of all, who are capable of f 88 ^ 8 ° n *? *** rf d T?l h Tr 

K de cWal beeWof the ™P Tweddel is , gone; but Francis 

Lwewiott/^ Wrangham and Abraham Moore yet 

? ... _ survive among us, and let them decide 

slte^ta^mcmmbus the question. What can be more de* 

awe^b^^s^ciarbus %htfid to a scholar's ear than these-- 

▼ah, Jitpxteb; Dsusl " Ad Bruntonam. w 


m latum uauss, mente c on se q ni 

nadammeum; ad BmuMTOWAM. 

B wmeaeis * py viz viam regens E Grania cxitmntm. 

agoa, T* agnosco teaman ; Nostri prawdium et decus theatri, 

- « « • _*_ ,. O tu Melpomenes severioris 

ai yioddeds Ap^d^DOSCCfe; Cert& fiST^un decore forma 

k-S?^«.,i homini ^ OD ^ t Cv * cr » «. 9™ 1 Minerva 

Dusk per dubist vias juTentas 
Per plausus popufi penculosos, 
r Mu f Attd et dissuaserit Nee lapsam--precor 6 nee in ruturum 

SM consaisaym ; l^psuram :— «stis at Canuena dignis 

iTs^naaV^ DjEUi,rugiammagis, Qu a te comm eniOTet modis ? Acerbos 
maajs) ctpIq stq 11 ^* 1 ^ cu prorerre Monimias dolores, 

wmv ^ ^ Prater c^m vetitos (nenu !) ruebat 

0t benignitas Tua ingerat, precor, In fratris dudamos, parumque casto 



utcafaambona: Vexabatpede; sive Juliette) 

onkujio^cnimdigneaccipiti Luctantes odio patemo amores 
m, sjbI sot Ml Mm fisgitt: ta atquoosux Hejwt, 


180 Glimpse into the Third Volume of Wrtmgham'r Works. [May 

Arrectusque comas Pavor ; vkiasun What ! could not all protect thee ! Ah ! in 

In fletum populus jubetur ire, vain 

Et susptria petaonant theatium. Thy bu l w arks fr o wn'd defiance o'er thepjaan s 

Mox dirinior enitescis, altrix £? ndl J r » m "H** 1 * majesty elate, 

Atabvimlet parens paientis: Thou aa^at uiiconadouf of impending late, 

Atn<mG^s^viiSit JJor biaaen gates, nor adamantine wall, 

Patera* columen decusque vitas . w save a s^ty peopte fiom tnett ftlL 

Natam: xettat item pari Britanno Was it for ttus those woridrous turrets re 

Bt par Euphrasia puelk/ quamque ^^Sfp* ** fCCMed y ° UA *** **** 

_ . x . . ' For this, that earth her mineral stores re- 

s O Bruntona, etto exttuca virgo sign*d, 

Bt visa art subtrahenda nostro, And the wan artist in bis dungeon pined s 

Brevis debase dolorque longus If Destined, at death crept on with mortal 

Gusiiimi atste parumper, oro ; teque stealth, 

Virtutesque tuas lyra sonandas And the flush'd hectic mimiaVd rosy health, 

Tradet Granta suis vicissim alumni*. » Mid g,-^ q,^ to ply tfce mceasant 

CmtaMgte, in. CaL Oct. mdccxc loom. 

Thirty years have past since Wrang- While morbid vapours linper'd in the gloom? 

ham, then one of the Swans of Cam, *%***, ?"«** Jf*** ^traineuMtning. 

azzsrsmai a»«s» , a?is , jBi 

situation in which his virtues and his Waked Skm's music on a foreign shore ; 

genius have now placed him, he may But oft, his tide where broad Euphrates rolls, 

look back with a pure pride to his Fdt the keen insult pierce then-patriot souls; 

youthful triumphs. He has acquired , And still, as homeward turned the longing 

the lofty character of a learned and eye, 

eloquent English divine; but they GushMmanyatear.andiss^manyasiaJi. 

who have been instructed by th 3 wis- J* «* ** ' f «" flow » * e *«*«« 8™* * 

dom of h^ riper years, Just often ^^S^^^ln^ of 

torn delighted to the graceful accom- ^Lord! 

plishments of his youth, while they And wields with mighty arm his hallow'd 

listen to the classic raptures of a muse sword. 

which has since " fixed her Pindus Rfhv**"* realms their sullen homage pay, 

upon Lebanon." As on the heaven-led hero bends his way s 

The best prise poemB— indeed the Opposing myriads press the fatal plain, 

only good ones we remember, are And Saidis bars her two4saved brass m vain; 

GWs Last Day, Porteous' Death, ?^ ,,c ^ h ^^ ch ^ bll ^ , ^^ 

HeWs Palestine, Grant's Restoration ^W m *F&lF y ^™& de *k 

of Learning m the East, and some of course, ■ ^^ 

Wrangham s. His " Destruction of And rebel states augment the swelling force i 

Babylon," though we believe it was Firm to their end, 'mid scene* of rumllove. 

unsuccessful, is perhaps the finest of Unsoften'd by those scenes the victors move: 

Ida poems. The versification is very And, as in lengthening line their ranks ex* 

lofty, the imagery is gorgeous, and P*°d» 

there is a grand processional march of SP?*™** niin through theravaged land. 

composition. We suspect that it In vain ^ ^ fc' f vigorowshoAsawJieB; 

would be easier to write a border bal- The inmesdcseend,m'assailiiig towers aase 

lad, an eastern tale, or a lake ditty, Till Treason comes the baffled chief to ascb 

than such vigorous poetry as this : And briefer arts succeed the long blockade. 

And art thou then for ever set ! thy ray ' With hardy sinew PersWs labouring host 

No more to rise and gild the front of day, Wrest the huge river from his native coast ; 

Par-beaming Babylon ? Those massive gates. And bid his flood it's wonted track forgo. 

Through which to battle rush'd a hundred Twizt other banks, through lands unknown 

states; to flow 

That cloud-crewn'd wall along whose giddy —The task is done ; and with obsequious 

height tides 

Can strove with rival cars in fearless flight— Euphrates follows, as a mortal guides. 


• Qmppe que (clausis in urbe, ob Dncis Cumbriensis mortem, theatris) in arensm 
Em, ubi pater tunc temporis ludos scenicos edebat, descendere non erubuerit 
+ —brevi cUUgrtxtc, c tough* fc^^ArioiL Oil Fur. xjuuu. 10.) 

1890.3 GUmpte into the Third Fohme of Wrangham's Works. 181 

Hit smgiksa channel, now a pervious rale, Who shall control thy raptures, or destroy ? 

Invite* Use foot where navies spread the sail; Give then the night, the poignant night, to 

And soon no barrier but the eastern main joy. 

Shall bound the conqueror*! progress, or his —Ha ! why that start ! those horror-gleam- 

reign. ing eyes ! 

TOoa, when from hearing JStna's restless That frozen cheek, whence life's warm crim- 
son flies ! 

t^.w. Fire precipitates his wares, That lip, on which the unfiniah'd accents 

lto *— ""*w rain rashes on the plain, break ! 

Aadartandnature rear their mounds in vain. Those hairs erect with life ! those joints that 
mooJd come mgh-rampired town obstruct shake ! 

his coarse, The wondrous hand, which stamps yon wall 
lit red invader rises in his force ; with flame, 

Aid scornful at the check, and proudly free, Speaks the fear just, that labours in thy 
Kneads his biasing triumph to the sea : frame ; 

Wah refluent stream the straiten*d billows As round it sheds self-mov'd the living ray, 

flow* Which mocks the lustre of thy mimic day. 

Aad yield new regions to th' insatiate foe. Haste ! call thy seers ; or, if their skill be 

Yet naught devoted Babylon alarms ; vain, 

DnaM S tk treason, or a world in arms. Let Daniel's art the blazing lines explain. 

Ifisst her gay palaces and festal bowers Haste ! for the prophet bring the scarlet vest ; 

Fhntr'd in sportive maze the rose crown'd If so, seduced, his words may sooth thy 

bono : breast 

Lost bant die roar of merriment around. Ah! no : that phantom with the stile of rate 

Ami wanton dance light trippM it o'er the Inscribes the doom of thee, thyrace, thy state. 

giuuud In curses then, rash Youth, the hour upbraid, 

Warn, bent the long-drawn revelry to spy. When first by pleasure's meteor-beam be- 
Hadi'd in grim midnight Vengeance hover'd tray 'd 

nigh. From virtue's path thy heedless foot declined, 

Nsr vain her care ; by wine's soft power And whelm'd in sordid sense the devious 


1W courtly troop, with gladden'd eye, she In vain ! Even now is wrought the deed of 
view'd: death: 

The ftamtk mob in drunken tumult lost, TJiis moment ends thy glories, and thy 
The deswsy soldier nodding at his post, breath ! 

Tic gats qncloacd, the desert wall survey M; Above, beneath thee feasts th' insatiate worm, 

Aad calFd her Cyrus to unaheath his blade, Completes the murtherer's rage, and dissi- 

QnasTthen, Bdshaazar— quaff, imperial pates thy form. 

Boy, See where, twin sons of Vengeance and 

Ike tntrirnf draught, and drain the mad- Despair, 

joy; March Gobryas and Gadatas. Hold, rash 

Ts equal not rouse thy languid board, pair : 

Aad bid the satrap emulate his lord. Tis parricide ! Can nothing then atone 

with pendird lids, the scandal of their race, Your private wrongs, save Babylon undone ? 

thy uuwded halls a thousand princes grace. As monarchs smile, or frown, shall patriot 

ul en each lege the warrior-greaves appear, fire 

H by such hands is grasp'd the deethful With selfish fervor flourish, or expire ? 

apear : No : when th' insulting Mode is at your 
Utter mid Syria's harlot train to move* gates. 

And wage in safer fields the wars of love. And your pale country shakes through all 
Alsarnate ranged (with faces scarce more fair, her states, 

Or hearts more soft) that virgin train is there : For her your cherish 'd enmity forego, 

The virgin's wish her half-closed eyes impart, To wreak its fury on the public foe : 

And Muffr 1 "— matrons boast th' adulterous Renounce the hoarded malice of your breast, 

And only struggle, who shall serve her best. 

On anient wing the rank contagion flies, Hark ! 'Tis the cry of Conquest : lull 

Sgjh heaves to sigh, and glance to glance and clear, 

replies. Her giant voice invades the startled ear. 

Let these the a ch ie vements of thy Gods re- With death's deep groans the shouts of tri- 

hearae, umph rise ; 

Mae me load hymn, and poor the unholy The mingled clamour mounts the reddening 

Tease; skies. 

Piou. nl ! with sacrilege enhance thy wine ! From street to street the flames infuriate 

Bid the vase circle, torn from Salem f % shrine. pour, 

Empire and wealth for thee unite their Climb the tall fane, and gild the (Ottering 

charms ; tower : 

For that bright beauty spreads her willing In cumbrous ruin sink patrician piles, 

arms: And strew amid the dust their massive spo&| 

189 GUmpse into the Third FoUem ofWrangham's Work* £M«y 

Wbil^withitemformsdilatiBginthebJii^ As 'midst her day-dreams fl is tsnl lans shwsj 

Banger and Tenor iwdl the doe amase. Glowing with nature's many pohuami dsss-e 

^Now yield those Gods, whom prostrate Resound the rattling or, uY 

fyiiy>« adored I • feet, 

•though Gods, unequal to a mortal swotd ! And aH the tumult of Che hreathing 

Inawejest state theunwonhipp'didoli atand t The murmur of tfce busy, idle throng i 

And tempt with sacred gold the plunderer*! The flow of converse, and the chaxm oe? 

. fryi^- eong:— 

Kowba^tho«egroTet,who^tlopingbow- Starting she wakes, and weepa as naugh* 

en f> wr>n "g *be sees* 

The Attic waiBtethrm'dherehanMftdaong : Save trackkss mantlet and entangled trees x 

Their varied green when pensUe gardeoe As naught she hears, save wham ansa she 

spread, hmke 

And Median ftliagslmt U's gratelul shade. UncoOa his monstrous length the n estii 
there oft, of courta and eourdy splendor make; 

tired, Save, of the casual traveller afraid, 

The fragrant gale Assyria's Queen respired; Where the owl shrieking seeks a danner 
With tuneless foot through glades exotic shade; 

roved, Save where, as o'er th' nnstradftat ran she 
AndhaflM the scenes her happier prime had roves, 

loved. Themournrol bittern ahakesth' 

New stoops that tower, from whose broad groves. 

^<£^«^th«midi^.k»i Now, gentle reader, is not this a 

Fhstoued 'mid ^o^beforTuntoown to vel 7 excellent Article ? And dost 

ttmy, not give us credit for oar sound dis- 

$cannM the bti^wwiden of uw milky v^y; cretion in framing it of materials ftff- 

And, as in endless round they whirl'd alona> nished by one of the most aconm- 

In s^oups arranged, and named the mod plisbed men in England, rather than 

tt»ong : uf onf Htm* afflbinous fancies ? We 

Nay b their gUtteringaspeet ssem'd to spy j^ M up onJ one hour Uter fl^ 

Jw^attT'S !^SL^S.rfa«L fa {uBual ^ **' The d0ck *»* 

Which aho* diction ^k'.G *™* *«h and we retire to our conch 

l u j rf * with the consciousness of having rar- 

Of her saga train, dsep-vetsed in stellar k*t nished an hour's pleasure to any one 

^otone^ctxutr^stestsnmg&^toresaw; who chooses to enjo y it. Mr Wrath*;* 

Not one observed the tempest's gathering ham's other volumes contain original 

aioom, matter of a graver and loftier land. 

^^ pr ^!? c . t ?^ fe, ^^^5?S Solne ** ^ M sermons ere very fine; 

Sf^^J ^^ J^^fgy^Ln theology, yet we shall certainly, ere 

Wst ^*^ *^ lon * T«y before our readers, ftom 

Or trace with ffittias; atop the masy line, them, some striking s p e c i men s of 

But here shall Fancy heave the pensive sigh, united erudition, reasoning, and do* 

And moral dssps shall gather in her eye. queue*. 


No* XV. 


Mm Ksay has appeared in Lear : and and defile it; and the restless waves of 
the permrmance is not unworthy of envy and ignorance may heat against 
the character . This is the fullest and its foundation unheeded,— for thsr 
most comprehensive general praise that noise " cannot he heard to high." 
need, or perhaps that can, be given to We sear it will take mere time assd 
it ; end nothing but this was wanting space than we can afford, to give any 
toelsxindeoBjSQmnnvteMrJtean's nune. thing like an adequate netiee of this 
The genius of Shakespear is the eter- exquisite perfbnnance. And, indeed, 
nai^oek en which the temple of this we are tar ftom feeling; oursdves qua- 
great actor's reputation must now Test; lifted for the undertaking. The cant 
end she " obscene birds" of criticism of criticism is bad enough ; but the 
may try in vain to reach its summit, presumption of it is still worse. We 

tttsrly disclaim it All we have ever is the nobler exhibition of lofty an, 

sretsnded to when we have felt our- nius that the modern stage has wiu 

mkmm m the presence of real genius, nessed — always excepting the same 

has been a sincere desire to be pleased actor's closing scene in the third act 

with its efforts, and a sincere delight of Othello. It is impossible for words 

in uipti— iiqi, our pleasure and the to convey any thing like an adequate 

reasons for it ; and this is all we can description of the extraordinary acting 

brine to the task of describing Mr in the whole of this scene— of the 

Ces^s performance of Lear. electrical effect produced by the transU 

Im the first scene these wss nothing tion from " Bid'em come forth end 

calling for very particular notice, hear me, &c."— to " O ! ere ypm 

There was no approach to mock dig- come !"--the mingled suspicion and 

any; yet nothing like a want of the tenderness with which he tells Regan, 

real: but a perfect propriety of con- ofGoneril's treatment of him— the ex« 

entkm and demeanour throughout, quiaite tone of pathos thrown into the 

The rebukes to Cordelia, and the sud- mock petition to Regan, " I confess 

oca change of his intentions towards that I am old, &c." — the wonderful 

her in consequence of her appa- depth and subtlety of expression given. 

vest coldness, were the evident re- to the ironical speech to Goneril, " t 

safes* net of the violated affections of do not bid the thunder-bearer strike* 

slather, but the wounded pride of a &c" — the pure and touching simph> 

tiny, secustomed throughout a long city of " I gave you alL"— Or, lastly, 

a to believe that bis wishes and his the splendid close of this scene by the 

are essentially entitled to bear speech, " Heavens drop your patience 

way in all things. When he ex- down, &c."— in which the bitter de- 
light of anticipated revenge, and the 

41 Is be say gays my peace as here I give unbending sense of habitual dignity. 

hsr, Ac"— — contend against the throes and agonies 
k ia not she outraged parent casting of a torn and bursting heart. 
sf tar ever Iris undutiibl child, but Of the third act, containing the 
the "riaskrick king, 9 * pettishly spurn* scenes with Kent and Edgar, during 
iaf Ike control of reason and right, the storm, we must speak more gene- 
he has not been need to listen rally. There may probably be some dif- 
And it was the same in the forence of opinion as to the manner in 
of his anger against the in- which these scenes were gjfren; but, 
of Kent. It was net the real to our thinking, Mr Keen never 
resulting from violated evinced more admirable judgment, 
_ w but the conventional ap- than in choosing what appears to us 
. of it in vindication of af- to have been the only practicable 

m ajesty. course which the nature of his subject 

After thai follows the scene with had left him. The Lesr of Shakes- 

fTiejnfl and Albany, in which he oh- pear— et least this part of it— requires 

serves, that they purposely slight him. to be made intelligible to the senses 

Here the pride of the insulted monarch through the medium of the imagine- 

ains to give way before the rage tion. The gradual and at last total 

sepoy of the outraged father,— breaking up of the waters, from the 

Or rawer the two characters, with the mighty deep of the human heart, 

fedmgs yt tf^ U ^ * on them, are blend- which takes place during these scenes, 

sd together in the most extraordinary would be intolerable if it were given 

and hnpresaive manner. The fearful in all the bareness, and with all the 

cune et the dose of this scene was force of reality. If it were possible to 

SjHen with tremendous force. It seem- exhibit the actual Lear of Shakespear 

sd to be screwed out of the bodily en the stage the performance must be 

flame, aa if by some mechanical pow- forbidden by law. We really believe 

er, est in motion by means independent that Mr Keen felt something of this 

sf thewflL And at the end, tne over- kind, and studied and performed these 

suited and erhausfed frame, sinking scenes accordingly. He did not give 

the supernatural exertion, a p ortr ait , but a shadow of them, 

to creek and give way alto* They came upon us, in their different 

aspects, not as animated images of 

TVs next scene is the finish in the Lear, but as dream-like recollections 

ehole performance ; end certainly/ it of him. Not so the scenes wYsufo te- 

f 84 Noticet of the Acted Drama in London. C M *7 

main to be spoken of, vis. the mad be likely to be dealt forth— tiotanxidst 

aoene in the fourth act, and that in the throes and agonies of the Priestess 

which he recovers his senses, and re- delivering the sacred oracles from 

cognises his daughter Cordelia, in the the Tripod— but with the calm and 

' fifth. These were as true to Shakes- collected fervour of the priest who 

pear and to nature as the most exqui- was appointed to repeat those oracles 

site delicacy of conception, consum- to the people. 

mate judgment and taste, and an en- Our limits compel us to restrain 

tire command over the springs of pas- ourselves from expressing the further 

skm and pathos, could make them, observations which occur to us in 

In particular, the short scene where thinking of this noble performance* 

Lear wakes from slumber and rscog- We take our leave of it with the deep- 

nises Cordelia, was beautiful in the est reverence and admiration for the 

highest degree. The mild pathos of genius which could produce it, and the 

ids voice, and the touching simplicity sincerest gratitude for the delight and 

of his manner, when he kneels down instruction it has afforded to us. 
before her, and offers to drink the As we have not of late bean called 

poison if she has it for him, can never upon to speak very favourably of any 

be forgotten. In speaking of what is thing that has been produced at this 

(rather coarsely) called the mad scene, theatre, we are glad of an opportunity 

we neglected to notice the noble burst of noticing the great care and skill 

of dignified energy with which Lear which has' been bestowed on the get- 

exclaims " Ay, every inch a king ? ting up of this tragedy. The whole of 

&c." and also the action all through the performers evidently take great 

the scene. His hands were as wan- pains with their respective parts. This 

deling and unsettled as his senses, is perfectly true, notwithstanding Mr 

and as little under the control of Eluston asserts it in the bills. Mrs 

habit or will. This was a very deli- West played the gentle parts of Cor* 

cate touch of nature; and perfectly ori- delis charmingly. There ia a tremu- 

ginal. lous tenderness in her voice which is 

Mr Keen's Lear is upon the whole, delightful. But when this lady chooses 

the most genuine of all his perfor- to be energetic she invariably becomes 

msnces of Shakespear. It is most coarse and unfeminine. Mr Bae also 

purely unaffected and untheatrical, performed Edgar in very admirable 

and therefore it is most worthy of his style — with great force, feeling, and 

subject and of himself— the fullest of discrimination, 
pure, deep, and natural passion, and There has also been produced at this 

therefore the most touching and in- Theatre a " speaking Pantomime," 

telligible to an assembly of men and which is very unkindly attributed to 

women, with their natural cessions Garrick. We hope Mr EDiston has 

sbout them. The only plausible ob- not been writing this drama himself, 

jection that has been or that can be and fathering it upon his celebrated 

made to any part of it is, that, in the predecessor. We can conceive him to 

-mad scenes there is too little vehem- oe quite capable of such a thing. Of 

ence and variety. But tins objection writing the drama in question, we 

is made by persons who forget that mean— for it is very vulgar and ab- 

Lear was " a very foolish, fond old surd. 

man, four score and upward ;" and By the bye, we congratulate the ad- 
that the profound knowledge of hu- mirersof " our immortal bard" on his 
man life, and the piercing glance into having met with s new editor. We 
die human heart which he exhibits were induced to purchase King Lear 
during these scenes, must be supposed the other night at this Theatre/ and 
to have come to him— as they came to found it to be edited by a person of 
Shakespear himself— not by observs- whom we never before heard in the 
tion and sentiment, but by a some- literary world;— one R. W. EUiston. 
thing which ordinary mortals can We should like to know who this ad- 
conceive of ss nothing less than a venturesome person may be. Perhaps 
species of absolute and direct inspira- Mr EUiston, the manager, can give us 
turn — some mysterious influence to- some information on the subject, asthe 
tally independent on the immediate person in question happens to be 'his 
ttate of his actual feelings and facul- name-sake. But, on second thoughts, 
* : and that, therefore, they would it is probable that he knows lest sbout 


1890.3 Notices of the Acted Ikama m London. 185 

than any one else. Whoever he cedy of King Lear, printed chiefly, 

■ay be* if we are to believe himself, from Nahum Tate's edition, with aome 

he most possess more than ordinary restorations from the original text." 

aagacity,---fbr it appears that he has This is verbatim et literatim the title 

bom enabled to supply the world with of the third number of " Elliston's 

t new edition of " Shakespears Tra- British Theatre." 


Henri Quatre> 

We have not left ourselves room to finite grace and spirit ; and Miss Ste- 

spsk m we could wish of the new phens, with her charming awkward- 

{■bo* at this Theatre under the above ness— better than all the airs and graces 

tide. With an indifferent plot, little in the world— is his mistress. Besides 

wit, and no poetry at all, it is yet a all these there is Fawcett as a fine old 

mj lively ana entertaining produc- general, Irish Johnstone as a soldier 

tko— full of grace, spirit, and naivete, of fortune, ready to make blunders, 

sad not without nature and character, duels, or love, at a moment's notice— 

It embodies some of the well-known to say nothing of Blanchard, Abbott, 

anecdotes which are related of this Duruset, Miss Brunton, &c. 
iWmtrmg monarch, and of his fa- The scenery is also most beautiful ; 

write Sully, and invents others suit- and the whole piece highly agreeable 

ed to their respective characters ; and and attractive, 
^altogether, very piquant, pleasant, It is impossible to conceive why the 

sol French. The piece is admirably above piece has been laid aside to make 

performed throughout, by M'Cready, way for such a strange and incompre- 

CKemble, Liston, Emery, Miss Ste- hensible extravagance as The Phan- 

(hens, Miss Tree, &a tom, which has just been produced 

IPGmdy plays Henri with great at this Theatre. It is a serious farce 

tmm and spirit. There is in particu- in which Mr M'Cready performs a 

hr one excellent scene in which, in Sleep-walker— a sort of Somno,orLady 

tat character of a supposed trooper of Macbeth ; and frightens himself and 

the royal army, he is made to assist at every body else out of their senses, by 

a viDajae fete given in honour of his walking about in his dressing-gown, 

on birth-day — the villagers, from His with a candle in his hand, " m the 

Hkeneas to the portraits of the king, dead waste and middle of the night"— 

asking him play the part of his own performing a sort of involuntary hoam. 

representative. This scene acta un- on all the assembled Peers and people 

flanmonlT well ; and the denoue- of Calabria, who meet together, with 

neat at the end of it, when he turns a holy and able-bodied Abbot at their 

out to be really the king, is extremely head, for the purpose of laying die 

veil managed. In this part of the supposed Phantom. This is all very 

dot Miss M. Tree makes a charming absurd ; and it is not a sufficient ex- 
tittle village coquette. Her delicious cuse for absurdity to say that it affords 

voice seems to grow richer and richer scope for fine acting— -which it certain- 
every time we hear it Liston makes ly does in Mr M'Cready. We were in 

t delightful Jocrisse, and Emery a hopes these idle extravagances were 

fine sturdy old trooper. In the other giving way before such Dramas sa 
branch of the plot C. Kemble plays a Rob Boy, the Antiquary, and Henri 
higlHninded young cavalier with in- Quatre. 

* fcwtus" on tbe t>toti) of *ir ftmie! 3Domu% 


CWs felt too deep sympathy with the afflicted population of a aster kingdom, 
to venture the publication of the following Luctus, till time had in some mea- 
sure alleviated the national suffering,— and, to borrow a figure from an oration 
attributed to Counsellor Phillips, " wiped off with his passing pinions the 
daily dews which a sympathetic people had poured on the shining daisy that 
sprang through the unshaven shamrock, round the gloomy grave of the de- 
molishing Donnelly ! M But as the moon has thrice renewed her horns since 
the demise of Sir Daniel, we trust that we shall not now he thought to be 
iiiter&ring " with the sacred silence of a nation's sorrow,** by pubnsnmg s 
selection from the " numbers without number, numberless,"* ox Luctus mat 
lists been for the last quarter pouring in upon us from every part of the 
united empire. We c onfes s, tost we are not of that school of philosophy, 
which considers the loss sustained by Ireland in the death of Donnelly alto- 
gether and for ever irreparable. Surely a successor will step into his shoes. 
wit what although centuries should pass by, without an Irishman willing 
to contend with the Champion of England ? What are centuries but short 
links in the long chain of time? For ourselves, we shall be satisfied with 
the destinies of Ireland, should a Donnelly appear once in a thousand year*. 
Whoever may be die Editor of this Magazine in the year 9890, let him 
pay particular attention to our words,— and, if our views on the subject 
prove to be correct, we hope that all the subscribers to our work at that pe- 
riod, will purchase " sets" from the beginning. But these are idle specula- 
tions,— so let us address ourselves to graver matter. To prove our strict im- 
partiality, we wrote the titles of their respective authors on separate slips 
of paper, which were all shaken strenuously in the Adjutant's old foraging 
cap, and ss the titles came out in the hand of Mr Blackwood, (whom we oc- 
casionally admit into the divan,) so are they now printed. It is singular mat 
the names of the two greatest poets of the day, Lord Byron and Dr 
8cott, should have followed each other.)] 




Mt old Armenian has come in upon me, just ss the afflatus was rising, W» 
a blast along Loch-na-gair, and I ahoaldas soon think of offending my L*ed 
Carlisle ss the gentleman now stroking his aged beard. I break abruptly os? 
with the words " Beggar's dust." What the devil is Hobhouse about ' 


he left Newgate? After all, there is no place like London for fan and frolic 
-~ret 1 am at Venice. This sounds oddly* Your joke on Don Juan was 
well played off— it airly out-Byron'd Byron. Who mm Wastle ? Give my 
So the old gentleman.~&kimble Scsmble stuH— — Btron. 


I* Fsncy-land there is s burst of wo, 

The spirit's tribute to the fallen; see 
On each scarr'd front the cloud of sorrow grow, 

Bloating its sprightly shine. But what is he 

For whom griers mighty butt is broach'd so free ? 
Were his brows shadowed by the awful crown, 

The Bishop's mitre, or high plumery 
Of the maU'd warrior? Won he his renown 
On pulpit, throne, or field, whom death hath now struck down ? 

He won it in the field where arms are none, 
Save those the mother gives to us. He was 

A climbing star which had not fully shone, 
Yet promised in its glory to surpass 

I*fc]] LetUrfrom Lord Byron. I8T 

Our champion star ascendant ; bat alas ! f 

Tho sceptred shade that values earthly might, 

And pow/r, and pith, and bottom, as the grass, 

Gave with his ieahkss fist a buffet slight; 

8ny, bottle-holding Leach, why ends so soon the fight ? 

What boots t* inquire?— 'Tis done, Green mantled Erin 

May weep her hopes of milling sway past by, 
And Crib, sublime, no lowlier rival fearing, 

llepose, sole Amnion of the fistic sky, 

Conceited, quaffing his blue ruin high, 
TSD comes the Swell, that come to all men must, 
. By whose foul blows Sir Daniel low doth lie, 
S uss jnnn a the Champion to resign his trust, 
Aad mingles his with Kings, Slaves, Chieftains, Beggars' dust ! 

« /* Fancy-bnd there is a burst of wo." 

Ilk? wHI Coleridge and Wordsworth continue to bother the world with their metaphy- 
sn? FaVCT and Imaoikatiok t Neither of them can tell the difference. Sam, write 
sssssr ClufcUUHi Imt William, thou Sylvan Sage, no more Excursions, though, 
jfttto Spatt, thou art the best of all the Pond poets. Moulsey Hurst is the M green 

" For whom grief* mighty butt Is broached to free." 

live this Bat to my friend, Meux. 

M The bishop's mitre, or Mghplumery 
Cf the moird warrior $" 

I lava no doubt that Donnelly would nave made a very excellent bishop. He would 
fat* ban powerful in the pulpit. The finest-armed man I ever saw was a bishop of the 
Gens; Church, who-had been a robber in his youth. Milo himself could not hare shewn 
ssssrJBSsekles. Spirit of Pollux ! Donnelly was not a soldier—a hired blood«shedder ! 
He <fid net, like Shaw, dose a life of honour by a disgraceful death at the carnage of 
toot* Jean* fighting against the Man of the Age, who may yet be destined to be the 
of Europe. 

" Oar champion star ascendant." 

of Crib's ! But lives there a man so base as to ssy that he has not been 
more so fortune than to bravery or skill in all his battles ? Was he not fast los- 
•gasi first fight with Jem Belcher, when that finished pugilist's hands gave way ? Was 
sot ess Monops out of condition in the second contest ? when Gregson, by a chance fidL 
s*aM_nst come to time, Crib was dead-beat; and " Bob of Wigan, ring-honoured 
1 meaner/* was comparatively fresh, and able to have renewed the combat what Briton 
tiB dare to say, that Molyneaux did not win bis first battle with the Champion ? It 
MBflsd oth e r w is e to the Umpires ; but neither Europe nor America was to be so satisfied; 
sal ss-my friend, Leigh Hunt, (he is my friend according to common speech, and I have 
as auk to find with his dedication of Rimini,) has lately cxpiesscd a wish that Napoleon 
say be liberated from St Helena, that he may fight the battle of Waterloo over again 
van Wellington, so do I wish that Pluto would send us back Molyneaux to try his for- 
tune once more with Tom Crib. My own opinion is, that judgment would be reversed 
is both 

" Say, bottle-holding Leach, why ends so soon the fight V 

There is no sflusion here to the Vice Chancellor of England, which the reader may 
bsve suspected from the previous note about reversals of judgment. Neither is there any 
afloskm to William Elfbfd Leach of the British Museum. Had there been, the epithet 
vtadd have been mors apt, " beetle-holding Leach.'* 

" And mingles his with Kings, Slaves, Chieftains, Beggars' dust /" 

TViBsdeswIl pardon the tautology of tms hne> Where b the difference between 
then all? 
Vol. VII. * A 

188 Lucius on the Death of Donnelly. [[May 


Dear Mr North, — Understanding that your next No. is to contain the 
" Luctus Variorum" on the late champion of Ireland, I take the liberty of add- 
ing my small contribution in the shape of the following song, which has had 
the honour of being sung at the hodge-podge, the jumble, and the mills- 
nium, with great applause. It is adapted to your own favourite tune, The Sned- 
don March, or, " The Paisley Weaters," one of the finest manufacturing airs 
in our Scottish music. The Radicals are quiet, for the present, in this quar- 
ter ; but, as I opine, rather cowed than sauabashed. At the review on the 
King's birth-day, I had the satisfaction to understand, that general Reynel ex- 
pressed his most enthusiastic admiration of our two Volunteer corps. The 
Light-Horse squadron are a parcel of most genteel young men, mounted on 
beautiful nags ; and they need not fear to shew themselves alongside of either 
the 7 th or 10th. The Sharpshooters are an incomparable corps. Nothing cm 
surpass the elegance, ease, and spirit, evinced in every one of their movements. 
" Look at the Sharpshooters,'* cried out a certain officer of regulars t'other 
day to his men, wno were forming somewhat after the manner of a flock of 
sheep, when a colley comes barking over a knowe. The reproof was felt 
keenly, I assure you. It is confidently asserted in the first circles here, that 
you and the Contributors are to be all West in a few weeks. Take the Tug to 
Grangemouth — track it thence in the Canal-boat — enjoy a week's cold punch 
here — and then steam it to Fort- William or Belfast. But my pen, as usual, is 
running away with — Your faithful friend and coadjutor, James Scott, 

Glasgow, 7, Millar Street, May 1st. D.6.L.H.V. 


Being a New Song, by Dr James Scott. 

When to Peggy Bauldie*s daughter, first I told Sir Daniel's death, 
Like a glass of soda-water it took away her breath ; 
It took away your breath, my dear, and it sorely dimm'd your sight, 
And aye ye let the salt, salt tear, down fall for Erin's knight ; 
For he was a knight of glory bright, the spur ne'er deck'd a bolder, 
Great George's blade itself was laid upon Sir Daniel's shoulder. 
Sing, Hey ho, the Sneddon, &c. 

I took a turn along the street, to breathe the Trongaie air, 
Carnegie's lass I chanced to meet, with a bag of lemons fair ; 
Says I, " Gude Meg, ohon ! ohon ! you've heard of Dan's disaster— 
If I'm alive, I'll come at five, and feed upon your master— 
A glass or two no harm will do to either saint or sinner, 
And a bowl with friends will make amends for a so so sort of dinner.* 1 
Sing, Hey ho, the Sneddon, &c. 

I found Carnegie in his nook, upon the old settee, 
And dark and dismal was his look, as black as black might be, * 
Then suddenly the blood did fly, and leave his face so pale, 
That scarce I knew, in alter'd hue, the bard of Largo's vale ; 
But Meg was winding up the jack, so off flew all my pains, 
For, large as cocks, two fat earocks I knew were hung in chains. 
Sing, Hey ho, the Sneddon, &c 

Nevertheless, he did express his joy to see me there — 
Meg laid the cloth, and, nothing loath, I soon pull'd in my chair ; 
The mutton broth and bouilli both came up in season due— 
The grace is said — when Provan's head at the door appears in view— 
The bard at work like any Turk, first nods an invitation ; 
For who so free as all the three from priggish botheration ? 
Sing, Hey ho, the Sneddon, &c. 


1320.;] A Dirge on Donnelly. 189 

Ere long the Towddies deck the board with a cod's head and shoulders. 
And the oyster-sauce it surely was great joy to all beholders. 
To George our king a jolly cann of royal port is poured— 
Our gracious long, who knighted Dan with his own shining sword— 
The next we sip with trembling lip— 'tis of the clsret clear- 
To the hero dead that cup we shed, and mix it with a tear. 
Sing, Hey ho, the Sneddon, &c. 

Tis now your servant's turn to mix the nectar of the bowl : 
Still on the Ring our thoughts we fix, while round the goblets roll, 
Great Jackson, Belcher, Scroggins, Gas, we celebrate in turns, 
Each Christian, Jew, and Pagan, with the Fancy's flame that burns ; 
Carnegie's finger on the board a mimic circle draws, 
And, Egan-like, h* expounds the rounds, and pugilistic Iswb. \ 
Sing, Hey ho, the Sneddon, &c. 

'Tis thus that worth heroic is suitably lamented.—- 
Great Daniel's shade, I know it, dry grief had much resented— 
What signify your tear and sigh ?— A bumper is the thing 
Will gladden most the generous ghost of a champion of the King. 
The tear and sigh from voice and eye must quickly pass away, 
Bat the bumper good may be renewed until our dying day ! 
Sing, Hey ho, the Sneddon, &c 


Had it not been one of the deepest convictions of my mind, even from very 
early youth, that there was something in periodical literature radically and 
essentially wrong, in rerum naturd, as Bacon Lord Verulam has wisely ob- 
served of a subject somewhat different, I should certainly, before the com- 
mencement of the present portion of time, have sent divers valuable commu- 
nications unto your Miscellany. For, concerning both the matter and manner 
of Blackwood's Edinborough Magazine, it hath fallen to my lot in life, on six, 
eight, or ten different occasions— some of them not without their importance, 
considered in relation to the ordinary on-goings of the world which we in- 
habit, and others of them, peradventure, utterly and thoroughly worthless ; 
—I sty, that it hath fallen to my lot in life to hear the Work, of which you 
are the Editor, spoken of in words of commendation and praise. It appeareth 
manifest, however, that to form a philosophical, that is, a true character of a 
work published periodically, it behoveth a man to peruse the whole series of 
the above-mentioned work seriatim, that is, in continuous and uninterrupted 
succession, inasmuch as that various articles, on literature, philosophy, and the 
fine arts, being by their respective authors left unfinished m one number, are 
mayhap brought to a conclusion in a second— nay, peradventure, continued in 
a second, and even a third— yea, often not finished until a tenth, and after the 
intervention of divers Numbers free wholly and altogether from any discussion 
on that specific subject, but composed, it may be, either of nobler or of baser 
matter. Thus, it often fareth ill with one particular Number of a periodical 
work— say for June or January — because, that although both the imaginative 
and reasoning faculties may be manifested and bodied forth visibly ana palpa- 
bly, so that, as I have remarked on another occasion, they may " lie like sur- 
faces," nevertheless, if there shall be the intervention of a chasm of time be- 
tween the first portion of the embodied act and the visible manifestation of the 
second— or again, between the second and third, and so on according to any 
imaginable or unimaginable series,— then I aver, that he will greatly err, who, 
from such knowledge of any work, (that is, a periodical work, for indeed it is 
of such only that it can be so predicated,) shall venture to bestow or to inflict 
upon it a decided and permanent character, either for good or for evil. Thus, 
for example, I have observed in divers Numbers of Blackwood's Edinborough 
Magazine, sarcasms rather witty than wise, in my apprehension, directed 

Ii6 Lucius on ike De*k ofjkntoelfy. C*t*f 

again* myself, on the soore of the Lyrical Ballads, and my Quarto Been* 
titled the Excursion. In other Numbers again— I caimol charge my mes 
for what months or in what year, nor indeed is it of Thai importance to dm 
question— methinks I haw read diagnmitionB on my poetry, and on those 
great and immutable principles in human nature on which it is built, and in 
virtue of which I do not feel as if I were arrogating to myself any peculiar 
jjift of prophecy, when I declare mv belief that these my poems will be im- 
mortal ; — I repeat, that in such ana such Numbers I hare perused such and 
such articles and compositions, in which I have not been slow to discern a 
fineness of tact and a depth of thought and feeling not elsewhere to be round, 
unless I be greatly deceived, in the criticism of tins in many things degenerate, 
because too Intellectual age. Between the folly of some Numbers, therefore, 
and the wisdom of others— or in other words of still more perspicuous significa- 
tion, between the falsehood of one writer, and the truth of another, there must 
exist many shades by which such opposite extremes are brought, without a 
painful sense of contrariety, before the eyes of what Mr Coleridge baa called 
the " Reading Public." Of all such shades— if any such then be— I am wholly 
unappriaedr-Hbecause I aee the work but rarely, aa I have already observed, Jbr I 
am not, to the best of mv recollection, a subscriber to the Kendal Book«Crub ; 
such institutions being, m small towns, where the spirit of literature is gener- 
ally bad in itself and fatally misdirected, conducted upon a principle, ec rather 
arrant of principle, which cannot be too much discommended. 

The upshot of the whole is this, that it is contrary both to my theory and 
my practice to become a regular contributor to any periodical work whatsoever, 
forasmuch as such habits of composition are inimical to the growth and sanitg 
of original genius, and therefore unworthy of him who writes for " all time 
except the present. 

Nevertheless, it hath so happened, that in seasons prior to this, I have trans* 
mitted to the Editors of divers periodical Miscellanies, small portions of large 
works, and even small works perfect in themselves; nor, would it he altogeth e r 
consistent with those benign feelings which I am disposed to cherish towards 
your Miscellany, as a Periodical that occasionally aimetn at excellence, and may 
even, without any flagrant violation of truth, be said occasionally to approxi- 
mate thereto, to withhold from it such alight marks of my esteem, as, upon 
former occasions, I have not scrupled to bestow upon others haply leas worthy 
of them. I therefore send you first, an Extract from my Great Poem on 
my Own Life, and it is a passage which I have greatly elaborated ;— and, se- 
condly, Sir Daniel Donnelly, a Ballad,, which, in toe next edition of my works, 
must be included under the general class of " Poems of the Imagination and 
the Affections." 


It ia most veritable,— that sage law 

Which telle that, at the wane of mightiness, 

Tea even of colossal guilt, or power 

That, like the iron man by poets feign'd, 

Can with uplifted arm draw from above 

The ministering lightnings, all m se nsi ble 

To touch of other reehng, we do find 

That which our hearts have cherish'd but as fear, 

Is mingled still with love ; and we must weep 

The very loss of that which caus'd our tears.— 

Ev'n so it happened) when Donnelly dies. 

Cheeks are besullied with unused brine, 

And eyes disgtuVd in tumid wretchedness, 

That aft have put such seeming on for him, 

But not at Pity's bidding 1— Yea, even I, 

Albeit, who never " runWd" in the ring, 

Nor know of " challenge/ save the echoing hills; 

T ■• 

IssV] • Pemu ft34tW.W. If I 

Nor H fibbing," sate that poesy doth feign ; 

Nor heard his fame, but at themutterings 

Of clouds contentious on Helvellyn's tide, 

Distant, yet deep, agnize a strarra regret, 

And mourn Donnelly — Honourable Sir Daniel :— 

(Blessinp be on them, and eternal praise, 

The Kmghter and the Knighted.) — Love doth dwell 

Here in tnese solitudes, and our corporal clay 

Doth for its season bear the self-same fire, 

Impregnate with the same humanities, 

Moulded and mixed like others. 

• I remember, 
Once on a time, — 'twas when I was a boy, 
For I was childish once, and often since 
Have, with a cheerf\d resignation, learnt 
How soon the boy doth prophecy the man, — 
I chanced, with one whom 1 could never love, 
Yet seldom left, to thread a thorny wood, 
To seek the stock-doves' sacred dnmfcHe ;— 
Like thieves, we did contend about our crime, 
I and that young companion. Of that child 
His brief coevals still nad stood in awe, 
And Fear did do him menial offices, 
While Silence walk'd beside, and word breath'd none. 
Howbeit, mine arm, which oft in vassal wise 
Had borne his satchel, and but ill defended 
From buffets, half in sport, half tyrannous, 
With which I was reguerdon'd,— ihanced prevail. 
His soul was then subdued, and much and sore 
He wept, convulsive ; nay, his firm breast heav'd, 
As dotn the bosom of the troublous lake 
After the whirlwind goeth ; and so sad 
Did seem the ruins of his very pride, 
I could not choose but weep with him, so long 
We sobb'd together, till a smile 'gan dry 
The human rain, and he once more was calm ;— ■ 
For sorrow, like all else, hath end. Albeit, 
ftiose tears, however boyish, were more fit. 
Since nature's self did draw them from their source. 
Than aught that cunning'st poet can distil 
By potent alchemy, from human eye, 
Ito consecrate Donnelly's grave. Even so ; 
For they disoours'd with a dumb eloquence, 
Beyond the tongue of dirge or epitapn, 
Of that which Dasseth in man's heart, when Power, 
Like Babylon, hath fall'n, and pass'd away. 


I came down to breakfast— And why all this sobbing, 
This weeping and wailing? I hastily cried ; 
Has Grimalkin, my boy, ta'en away your tame Robin ? 
Has Duckling, or Pullet, or White Coney died? 

Twas thus the short list of his joys I ran over, 
While the tears were fast coursing down Timothy's face, 
And strove the small darling his red cheek to cover.— 
What is this ?— thought my soul-— Is it grief or disgrace? 

I looked on the Courier, my weekly newspaper, 
For I felt that the cause or his sorrow was tnere ; 
So quick is griefs eye that no word could escape her— 
" Dead is Daniel, the hero of Donnybrooke fair !" 

19ft Lucius on the Death of Donnelly. [ £May 

mournful was then the loir song of the kettle, 
And long look'd my face in the bright polish'd grate ; 
Dull, dull clank'd the tongB, tho' composed of true metal. 
They seemed to my fancy the long shears of fete. 

1 sought the fresh sir, but the sun, like a firebrand, 
In my dark bosom kindled grief's faggotty pile : 
Ah, roe ! ye five Catholic millions of Ireland, 
What now will become of your bull-breeding isle ? 

Mine eyes met the earth, in their wand'ring uneasy ; 
And I thought, as I saw through the vanishing snow 
The flower of Sir Daniel, the bright shining Daisy, 
On that beautiful poem I wrote long ago. 

By the stroke of the thunder-stone split in its glory, 
On the earth lay extended a green-crested pine ; 
Then I dreamt, poor Sir Dan, of thy pitiful story, 
For the trunk was as straight and as knotty as thine ! 

Thus sun, flower, and tree all, in blaze, blight, or blossom, 
The same sombre image of sorrow supplied, 
While Nature breath'd forth from her mountainous bosom, 
" Weep, weep fbr the day when Dan Donnelly died !" 


KiUamey, May 9th. 
my DEAEX8T kit,— Here am I, living at rack and manger, with my old 
schoolfellow, Blennerhasset ; and you and your Magazine may go to the devil, for 
any thing I care about either of you. We embark on the lake about 1 1 o'clock, 
after a decent breakfast, and contrive to kill the evening till about five, soon 
after which we enter ourselves fbr the sweepstakes, and, to use the phraseology 
of my friend, the Reverend Hamilton Paul, generally contrive to stow away 
under our belt a bottle ef black-strap, before tumbling in. Ton may think 
this monotonous — but you are quite wrong. One day we fish trout, another 
eels, and another salmon, which produces an agreeable variety; and it was 
only last Thursday that Rowan Caahel and myself swam across the Devil's 
Punch Bowl on the top of Mangerton. We also attend wakes, fairs, funerals, 
and patrons, and go to church as regular as clock-work. In short, I have some 
intention of marrying again, and settling for the remainder of my lift, at least 
for a year or two, somewhere in Kerry. I hear Mullcocky blowing his 
horn for us to join a batch of young ladies, on a party of pleasure, to the upper 
lake, and we are going to dine on cold provisions on Ronayne's Island, which is 
as beautiful and romantic a spot as ever you clapt eyes on. I enclose for you 
the only niece of poetry I have composed since I past through Cork. I jotted it 
down with a black-lead pencil, in a silver esse, belonging to a young gentle- 
man with a good-natured face, on the outside of the coach ; and I am sorry to 
say, that on parting from us, he forgot to ask it back again ; so I keep it for 
the sake of an agreeable travelling companion. You will observe, from its 
stopping short all at once, that the Poem is only a fragment. Mullcocky u hi 
a big passion, I hear, so good-b'ye Kit, prays ever your hearty chum, 

Morgan Odohibtt. 

P.S. Something seems to have gone wrong with the barge, so I have time for 
a P.S. I encountered the Champion's funeral ; and it was the biggest I ever 
witnessed. It was duly celebrated by games too ; for, as the story went, cer- 
tain persons, suspected of being young surgeons or their jsckalls, were met and 
severely beaten by some of the champions of the fist, who jaloused, as your 
Scottish peasantry say, that they were on the watch for the hero's remains. 
Another version of the story is, that the designs of the knights of the scalpel 
were all along suspected by the knights of the daddle, who appointed a trusty 
band to watch, for two days and nights, the holy shrine where their saint was 
laid. Having gone, however, to indulge themselves in a funeral libation for 

1900/] OdoruuUg, an Ode by Morgan Odokerty. 19S 

an boor or two, at the " honor/' (a drinking bout at a burial) they found, on 
repairing to their post, that the enemy had been before them, and had, with 
infinite judgment, effected the resurrection, before the champion was well warm 
in his grave. A deputation of very respectable gentlemen waited on the corpse 
next day, to ascertain the fact : but it is absolutely impossible to ascertain any 
kt in Dublin ; and you meet thousands and tens of thousands every day, ana 
in every company, who maintain that the champion is now in Edinburgh. If 
you have seen him on any of your dissecting tables there, pray let me know. 
-But I hear the ladies giggling, so I must be after joining the water-party. 



When green Erin laments for her hero removed, 
From the Isle where he flourished, the Isle that he loved, 
Where he entered so often the twenty foot lists, 
And, twinkling like meteors, he flourished his fists, 
And gave to his foes more set downs and toss overs, 
Than ever was done by the greatest philosophers, 

In folio, in twelves, or in quarto, 
Shall the harp of Odoherty silent remain, 
And shall he not waken its music again ? 

Oh ! yes with his soul and his heart too ! 

Majestic Odonnelly! proud as thou art, 
Like a cedar on top of Mount Hermon, 
We lament that death shamelessly made thee depart, 
In the gripes, like a blacksmith or chairman. 
Oh ! hadst thou been felled by Tom Crib in the ring ; 
Or by Carter been milled to a jelly, 
Oh ! sure that had been a more dignified thing, 
Than to kick for a pain in your belly! 

A curse on the belly that robbed us of thee, 
And the bowels unfit for their office ; 
A curse on the potyeen you swallowed too free, 
For a stomach complaint, all the doctors agree, 
Far worse than a headache or cough is. 
Death, who like a cruel and insolent bully, drubs 
All those he thinks fit to attack, 
Cried Dan, my tight lad, try a touch of my mulligrubs, 
Which soon laid him flat on his back ! 

Great spirits of Broughton, Jem Belcher, and Fig, 
Of Corcoran, Pierce, and Dutch Sam ; 
Whether up stairs or down, you kick up a rig, 
And at intervals pause your blue ruin to swig, 
Or with grub, your bread baskets to cram. 
Or, whether for quiet you're placed all alone 
In some charming retired little heaven of your own, 
Where the turf is elastic, in short iust the thing 
That Bill Gibbons would choose when he's forming a ring, 
That wherever you wander you still may turn too, 
And thrash and be thrashed till your all black and blue ; 
Where your favourite enjoyments for ever are near, 
And you eat, and you drink:, and you fight all the year ; 
Ah ! receive then to join in your milling delight, 
The shade of Sir Daniel Donnelly, knight ; 

With whom a turn up is no frolic ; 

His is no white or cold liver, 

1M LneHs on the Death of DonneUy. [Mij 

For he beat Oliver, 

Challenged Carter, and died of the colic ! 


Bad lack to my soul, 

But I'll fill the punch bowl, 
To the brim with good stingo ; and so Nelly 

Don't let the toast pass you, 

But fill up your glass to 
Demolishing Daniel Donnelly. 


CL: Ch: Aprii 1,1820. 

MY DEAR 81ft, 

For the fuller explication of the subjoined Threne, the reader k referred to 
die conclusion of the last book of the Iliad, which has supplied a great part of 
the exequial diction — who, indeed, so fit as the mourners or a Hector to fWmsh 
with funeral-phrases those of a Donnelly? — and to the notes upon that unrivalled 
sketch of the manners of the Emerald Isle, Castle Rackrent. For more immt* 
diate use, i. e. (to borrow Miss Edgeworth's own terms) " for the advantage 
of laiy readers, who would rather read a page than walk a yard, and from 
compassion, not to say sympathy, with then- infirmity,*' I have transcribed a 
small portion of the latter. 

Buller has just run up to town for his Easter holidays, or you should have 
had the whole of the notes in the customary language of classical commentary. 
As it is, you will come off with more text tnan annotation. We shall neither 
of us soon forget the cordial hospitality of the Tent last August— 'Yours ever 
very truly, W. Seward. 


M agnoquc uMmtit rt****ifc-.ViftO. 
m i mhHstibme 


The body of the deceased, dressed in grave-clothes, aftd ornamented with 
flowers, was placed on a bier, or some elevated spot The relations and keener* 
(singing mourners) ranged themselves in two divisions, one at the head and 
the other at the feet of the corpse. The bards and croterier had before pre- 
pared the funeral " caoinan," or song. The chief bard of the head-chorus 
began by singing the first stanza in a low doleful tone, which was softly ac* 
companied by the harp : at die conclusion the foot*eemichorus began the la- 
mentation, or " Ullaloo" (exia.iv) from the first note of die preceding stanza, 
in which they were answered by the head-semichorus ; then both united in 
one general chorus. The chorus of the first stanza* being ended, the chief 
bard of die foot-semichorus began the second " Gol," or lamentation, in which 
he was answered by that of the head ; and then, as before, both united in the 
general full chorus. Thus, alternately, were the song and chorusses perform* 
ed during the night The genealogy, rank, possessions, virtues, and vices of 
the dead were rehearsed, and a number of interrogations were addressed to the 
deceased ; as, " Why did he die ?' if married, "Whether his wife was faith- 
ful to him, his sons dutiful, or good hunters or w ar rior s ?" if a young man, 
" Whether he had been crossed in love?" or, " If the blue-eyed maids of 
Erin treated him with woottL^'^Transacticms of the Royal Irish Academy, IV.) 
The crowd of people, who assemble at these funerals, sometimes amounts to 
a thousand, often to four or five hundred. (N. B. Sixty thousand, it is said, 
attended Donnelly to his grave f) They gather, as the bearers of the hearse pro* 
eced an their way; and when they pass though any village, or when they 


1890.]] Letter from Mr toward. - *** 

come near any houses, they begin to cry, " Oh ! Oh I Oh ! Oh! Oh ! Agh ! 
Agh V raising their notes from the first OKI to the last Agh I in a kind of 
mournful howl." 

P. S. Scholars, with more of leisure and literature than belongs to myself, might 
hire found in Pindar, what I have sought in Homer— the appropriate arche- 
type for a sublime choral ode. Was the " huge" Diagoras or Rhodes, indeed, 
with all his accompaniment of pugilist sons and grandsons — Damagetus, and 
Dorieus, and Acusilaus, and Euclon, and Pisirrothius— better entitled to the 
twfpmt ***** bestowed in the seventh Olympic Hymn, than Sir Daniel Donnelly? 
By the bye, from the reception at first given to the claim preferred by his 
daughter, Aristopatira, to the honours of " a sitting" at the grand spectacle of 
Put (for we must carefully distinguish the ©•» of the scholiast from the 
Chinese beverage mentioned in the elegy,) we may infer that the y*>tw**$ *yn 
of the ancients, as the epithet implies, involved somewhat more of an exposure 
even than is witnessed in our modern ball-rooms. See Blackwood's Magazine, 
XXXVI. 609. In one respect the Rhodian, «•*£ «^ir«v •£{«*, appears to have 
offered from our illustrious Irishman; as Pindar calls him u&vp*x*t t and 
Dsanelry (we are told by the author of the " Boxiana," ib. 615.) was " not a 
itasajptt flitter." Neither have we any authority for applying tne v-Mt^m ^$m 
of t. 168, to the intellects of the genuine sons of St Patrick. Hactenus 

Pi. To my utter amazement, Buller has burst in upon me, all covered with 
■od, a well-booted Grecian. Heaven knows what has brought him back so sud- 
denly to Oxford. Something is in the wind, no doubt. Hearing that I am writ- 
tag to you, he begs to add a scrawl, though he has to cross and recross my 
met, tike that of a boarding school Miss. Once more fare thee welL W. S. 

ullaloo ! 


•iUitm tuptrarc pugnit 

ivoWfcm.— Hon. 

Hon hctcjocoict conveniunt /yra?.— .IbitJ. 

♦iv wvktsJf wsAu <pt£T*Tt, <pw ?(ir»0irrf AONEAAE, 

flAi* kie m*u{ Qtv p«A« raw fwj. 
Ovfo n tru r*rns airfrrt pipnXtf Ii"{wk, 

OvT !{ ftv^mimt (jp%v iAiAiv lAfAff) 
Or my* Mjtiptmr rttipn acrfutrtt w^Jtpu (1) 

O* ftn *£ ttyrtor, «n 3i <f\trx%6rro yvuttxtft 
K«j Tttf (2) Xfc<p6Tt^6i (jp%v fAfAftf fAiAlv) 

0) hApimfimi, though not at present to be found in any Greek writer, may peth&p» 
jb jortified by the analogy df /V*r#$*^*/o, an epithet once deemed of so much consequence 
*■ the last line oi the lhad, by a scrupulous translator, that for Pope's dosing couplet, 

Such honours Ilion to her hero paid, 
And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade ; 
tfeijfa certainly somewhat embellishes the simplicity of the original, u*n rn aXntn ktyn 
ItkimXpim 4**b" *ituXtf 9 he proposed to substitute, 

Such honours llion to her prince decreed, 
To the great tamer of the gallant steed ! 
(J) ttm. " All night mere were tea-drirdrings for the women, and punch for the 
bjov* (Edgeworth's Ormond, II. 375.) I remember to have seen a Greek ode, E* f m» 
Ostf, and many Latin disquisitions upon the same fragrant leaf, nearly coeval with itSi 
int mtroductkm into Europe ; in all of which, as in its French appellation, the aspirate 
■ SfCKfved* I cannot but suspect that, in the nigrum vitiis prcefigere Thcla, which I 
was*! iaad nigrum viHpreeponere Theian, the preference of bohea to black-strap («u$«ri 
«*f) is mt^dtmsmdj viw&ntcd. Indeed, if I were not afraid of attempting to \r»&\& 
Vol. V1L % B 

199 Luitus on the Death of Donnelly. C^ay 

A»J{K v«W{ Tf fim (3) ro x^im*, it it yvtwxn 

*Hv xaAltfs? 0mp (^iv f At Atv f AfAfv)* 
" Torji ^«s? Atijrur, xmrm wxarig my*t*i" 

E{l{t»V, ' t°4fAff ; (fit; lAiAfv lAiAiv) 
•* Ma? r fiwf aAA* ig« yvwj, i«r* ; e ws* awrtiy*, 

" OvoV fusgflf arirAe » (?•» lAiAf u lAtAiv) 
•' H rt ^iXurrct. ««g«j yXavxetxiia, %v%H Ifgraf, 

44 Ovs IT* *£* «rr*?*A¥r ; (0 fv iAf Aftr lAfAfy) 
cc AyyA*r v t* A#x 4f /Kfy*A«$g*F » sW Avy£i 

<r IImktwo <4> l}dur«K (^iv sAsAte lAtAtv). 
u AAA* firif «i stir *AAA»r (5), n OvAiC«{#<*? fM*v*# 9 

M Hf Ksamigsf (^iv fAfAfv tAlAtv) 
** AAA* <rv fry fwwvi (6) flr«g«<9«r*t»*? x*fl{Vftlf» 

" Ov y«g f*uA<;gsf ** (jP iu •****» tAlAtv) 

steps to which I feel myself unequal, I would Bullerize so far as to conjecture, on the 
principle of die English proverb, '* grief is thirsty," that jrioai, pine, repine, &c in our 
semi-Greek language may be derived from *nm % and its deflexions ; and would farther 
connect the French feu, " deceased," with the p» of Grecian lamentation. 

Shall I, before I close this hariolating note, give you one of our absent friend's scraps 
of erudition ? Bulkr, you are aware, is one of those black swans at Oxford, a Whig ; and 
you will be but too ready to say politically, whatever shave he may p o ss e ss of your per- 
sonal regard, Hie niger eit_But to his commentary. Upon Iliad, XI. 751, &c he aska> 
in that modest tone of query, which ushered Newton's optics into the world :— .*• May not 
the poet, in the true spirit of vaticination, here point to Lord C-stl~r*gh (he is Tory de- 
licate, you will observe, in involving his allusion, by omitting the vowels,) as the modern 
Achilles, where he says, 

Xliftmex bcf/iAtrai (leg. tAigt, elegi, eUgi, euravit) *!{*» «A* *T{vytrat4. 
1. 1. Clarkiomteiprete, wilder* Mfefa/, on the other side or the channel ? w The 
familiarity of the practice, he adds, was certified by that minimus maxima* of men, the late 
Speaker; and in •»«•«, he thinks it not difficult to trace the rudiments of a well-known and 
associated name, Quintan (sc. Dick). He then proceeds to corroborative quotations, in 
which his talent of conjectural emendation is largely exercised ; 

Fulcrum est digito monttrari, et " Dick-buyer hie est!** 

Tern, cirrotorum centum dictate fuUte 

points out, with his usual felicity, the peculiar beauty of the vernacular sobriquet, «« Dick- 
buyer ;" since, in some cases (e. g. Seumaise's famous Hundrefa, &c>) classical language 
does not furnish a lull equivalent ; and then, after observing that the influencing of the votes 
of a hundred Right Honourable dandies (Cirrotorum, «. i. nobilium puerorum, Lubin.) is no 
light matter ! rejects a proposed reading, senatorum, though of some plausibility, as the 
centum in that combination would so greatly under-rate his lordship's range of •* dictation 1 * 
•-not that he calls him " a dictator T"*-4)ext cites 

Hie (Dick) nt quern legis, t e. eligis ; 
slilv subjoins, Non meut hie sermo, sed quern praecepU OfaUus % 

intimating that the suggestion had originated with the Irish Whig Duke of Leinster, Earl 
and Baron Ofidley ; and summons the aid of happier guessers to restore the true reading 
of the very corrupt person~-pshaw, I mean passage.— 3f<m#/ror digito (Qu. Canning's ? 
See Blackwood's Magazine, XXX. 724.) prcetereuntimm • • • fldicen. * • 

(3) "rl«t /to, almost literatim usquebaugh, " an Irish and Erse word," says Johnson, 
" which signifies the water of life. The French have the same metaphor in their Eau de 

(4) nv*)»«». See II. A. 779. By a similar substitution of mis* foe www** we 
read elsewhere, 

XIi/xTrxii «* ftcKt «»$£ '•m A«C*<— <• 
Qu. Does «m, A. T. represent, mwy(*mrJUn 9 Turner or Triog ? I don't know their 
Christian names, but I observe you call the latter Athletic. P. 611. 

IUtm}n*9 ms m /c« urns far*. 
Where the reader will note well the last two emphatic words. 

(5) 'AAA* a. r. A. This, by a slight deflexion from Homer's 

.AAAWj; fu *mi *Xkf im /ttyptrtf <»<«'7>i, IL. IX. 768. 
gives the very names of the English pugilists, whom Donnelly caused to " bite the dust** 

(6) Ewusri alludes to the phrase speaking to a man, r«c«4*iipiw is literally rendered 

WO-3 Letter from Mr Seward. m 

** — N " * « ***J» «x w (y*» ■*•*««» HlXl*) " 

Of flpMfW xAstfSmff' fWtVTIH 0ai«ef OBtfgftf, 
" Ol, My «, •«, «, «f, I, I, «,, f, g, «,,» (7) 

My dear Kit,— Fearing you have forgotten your Greek, I favour you with 
i Latin ycreion of Will's « Ullaloo." I have had glorious fun in town ; but 
m off like a shot to Cheltenham. I am sick of Brazenose. — She is an 'irish 
dd, with 700 oer annum, in the vicinity of the Bog of Allen. Keep a look 
wi, and you will see me in the inanriage-U^—Special license.— You old boy. 
Ikse **«""«. Bob Bullbk. 

Hen ! pugilum raulto validissime, hcu ter lugende Dokells ! 

Exddisti vita heu ! valde hac juvenis. 
Neque quidquam tibi patria abeunti curs fuit Ierne, 

Neque sex myriades (heu ! &a) 
Qui tui curaverunt funus cantibus virum*domitoris, 

Nonas auspicantibus (heu ! &c.) 
Hi miidem lugubre cancbant, adgemebantque rauliercs, 

Bibebantque ambo (heu ! &c ) 
Viri quldcm Aquam vita? hordeaceam, fieminre vero 

Quam vocant Theam (heu ! Sec.) 
" Cur lucem relinquere, tot victor certaminum/' 

Regan t, " voluisti ? (heu f &c.) 
f< Num auquem alium araat uxor, die ? vel Alios aufugit 

" Neque pugnam sustinuit P (heu ! &c.) 
u Vd te amantem virginos cesiis-oculis, decus I§rncs, 

" Non redamabant r (heu ! &c.) 
" Anjdorum nunquam cohortem magnanimus in pugna tristi 

" Pugilum timuisti C heu ! &c.) 
u Sed si quis te vel Hallus, vel Olivarius in creparet, 

a Vel Couperus (heu ! &c.) 
" To contra fllum verbis (Qu. verberfbus) admoueus cohibebas, 

a Neque enim mitis eras (heu ! &c.) 
11 Et tuis manibus mordicus prehendit immensum solum 

— cc Nunc vero te fatum consecutum est (heu ! &c") ' 
Sk dixerunt flentes ; adgemuit plebs knmensa : 

" Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Oh! Oh ! Agh ! &c w 


r By ike Rev. J. Barrett, D.D, S.F.T.C.D. Profetsor of Hebrew in Tnniiy 

(Mege, Dublin. J 


tovou see me now, my feelings were never so much hurtcd as when I heard 
f me death of the man of the strong hand— «^ *y*lif— 'Dan, or Daniel, or 

% and nm*%t***t means giving a cJtcck ; all, I believe, cant terms in the noble 
of Bosing. For Mmn^vxts, could I have gotten over the two flight objections of 
• non-zeaembknee and violated metre, I should have wished to substitute tJMA«?ir, 
■iaWeVft ctpedaUy as connected with x*x«$of t colaphus, and jmXjmtT* tundo, tundendo 
ana, which, when applied (as it is by Aristotle) to the eyes, gives in its first sense the 
ascpsfs queered" or English pugilists, and die American " gouging*' in the latter. 
st you wul have remarked, that I am particularly nice in what regards the ductus Uter* 
stt, Ac in my emendations ; and MtyvMi and §*•**&$ ap proach very little nearer 
m Mactdon and Monmouth. Even in its present reading, however, the fins is—what 
dlst weald havt sailed verms vert #v»7«w.. 
IT) Qssffarfn, 


198 Lvctut on the Death of Donnelly. " pDrw 

Sir Daniel Donnelly. At Commons that day, I tte nothing to speak of, do 
you see me now, nothing to speak of, only a matter of four pounds avoirdupois 
of beef ; no delicacy, except tne half, or perhaps 3-5ths of a custard pudding* 
and drank nothing but three pints of October. *a*» •> said I, mmmtow » «A« r 
though I know not whether he was ***** or callous— ^«*x*«, £, 4, Ay, my, 
said Dt Kyle, for he is a man facetious in himself. Cheer up, doctor, said hie, 
and take this cut of mutton. KM*n g n^{«x*_Damn Patroclus, said I, Lord 
pardon me, do you see me now, for swearing, what was he to Donnelly, *iC<g»»« r 

At chapel next Sunday, I slept through three quarters of an hour, though 
Dr Wall was preaching—for grief produceth somnolency. There was I 
inspired with a poetical effusion — nam me Phoebus amat— in the Hebrew 
tongue— the tongue despised by the ambubaiarum <*»11*gi« Fhannacopoise 
mendici mime balatrones — but dear to me, seeing that it bringeth me in 
a neat salary. Haying heard then, most learned Mr North, that you had 
summoned your bold bards to send their verses to Auld Reekie's town, I send 
you this. I hate long prefaces, and have ere now fined * refractory scholar for 
saying grace too tediously, and thereby keeping the meat cooling— a thing, 
most erudite Star of Edinburgh, hateful to my soul. Therefore, do yon see 
me now, I shall not keep your expectation cooling, but let you fall to. Print 
my Hebrew properly. Mind the points. Put not a Patacn for a Kametx, si 
Chateph Segol for a Tzere, a Kibbutz for a Sheva. Masoretically print it, di- 
acritically compose it So farewell. Vive valeque. J. Babaett. 

Dublin, April 1, 1820. 

[[By some accident, which we cannot explain, Dr Barrett's dirge has come to- 
ns much mutilated. We hasten, however, to print the fragments. It is av 
remarkable circumstance, that Dr Barrett's lament bears a resemblance to 
a lament of Mr Hyman Hurwitz's published in 1817. It must be accidentaL 

Translated by the Rev. B. Hmcktf 

I. 1. 

irftDft P*YN *bto Mourn Krin, semi of Erin, mourn, 

L TrT li M i' ,{ Give utterance to the inward thsoe, 

; H v2TQ iTOtt lD3 As wails of her first love forlorn, 

II. a. 

"19?? 1*8 »T3i ^ Moon fi* oar Champion ■MtcfaedmBf 
•TOM IttfK tT Ul /&) No more the ponderous thump to fling. 

ft9n n&bn bw 


Mourn for the daisyf flower that went, 
a Of* Kre half disclosed its boxing powers} 

w " Mourn the green bud so rudely rent 

From Ireland's pugilistic bowers. 

• Author of Buonaparte, a mem ; we fear not extant Mr H. hat made Mr Cole 
ridge's translation of Hurwitz's oW the basis of his. 

f The daisy was the flower of Sir Daniel, just as the vkdetwisthatof Buomiarte. At 
ter hu agnal defeat of Oliver, he went home singing, " Down among the DaJneV* 

18900 JMNe? Dirge on Sir Daniel Donnelly. \$g 

IV. 4> 

*WN •TXtSfW *bV Mourn for the universal wo, 

.*** ▼▼*:-* With solemn dirge and fkulterfag tfttwmf , 
5 TMh pH % ffl For Ireland's champion is laid low? 

ff^tm h MM nf Of Mr Hincks' translation we shall 

cetera mm. only ^ in addi|k||1 ^ ^ ntf ^ 

and 12th verses. 


Mourn for old Ireland's hopes decayed, 
Her bruisers weep in mournful strain, 
Their fair example prostrate laid, 

By seven and forty tumblers slain. 

• • • • » 


Lone as the Commons-hall it trod 
Will I the yearly dirge renew 

Mourn for the nurslins of the sod," 
Our darling hurried from our new. 


The proud shall pass forgot; the chill, 

Damp, trickling vault their only mourner, 
Not so our daisy ; no, that still 

Clings tothe breast which firsthad womhec. 

• # • • • 


Giiir drives poetry from my mouth with as vehement an explosion as that 
*ith which a bottle of soda water in summer expels the cork. Sir Daniel Don- 
nelly's death has had this effect on me ; it has impregnated me with the gas of 
borrow, and I effervesce in rhyme. My stanzas on the death of that great man 
**ay not be so good as those of others, but they are as sincere as the sincerest. 
£*ut them into your fioxiana collection. If you ever come to Cork, I shall be 
liappy to supply you with soda water (quart bottles at 12d, pint ditto at 6d.), 
with the utmost despatch, and of the best quality. Don't be afraid of any of 
&r Death-in-the-pot's nostrums. I remain, sir, your obedient servant, 

Thomas Jennings, 
Cork, March 26th, 1820, 7, Brown Street. Soda Water Manufacturer. 


Tune—" Molly Astore." 

1. 2. 

As down Exchequer Streetf I strayed, With that he took me straight away, 

A little rf"iA ago, And pensively we went, 

1 chanced to meet an honest blade, To where poor Daniel's body lay, 

His five brimful of wo; In wooden waistcoat pent ; 

I aked him why be seemed so sad, And many a yard before we reached 

Or why he sighed so sore ; The threshold of his door, 

Gramaehree, och Tom, says he, We heard the keeners as they screeched, 

Sir Daniel is no more ! Sir Daniel is no more ! 

* The sod, W if**** k Ireland 


Lucius on Hie Death of Donnelly. 



We entered soft, for feeling* sad 

Were stirring in our breast. 
To take oar farewell of the lad, 

Who now ww gone to rest ; 
We took a drop of Dan's potheen,* 

And joined the piteous roar ; 
O, where shall be his fellow seen, 

Since Daniel is no more ! 

His was the fist, whose weighty dint 

Did Oliver defeat, 
His was the fist that gave the hint 

It seed not oft repeat, 
His was the fist that overthrew 

His rivals o'er and o'er ; 
But now we cry in pillalu, 

Sir Daniel is no more ! 

Crib, Cooper, Carter, need not fear 

Great Donnelly's renown. 
For at his wake we're seated here, 

While he is lying down ; 
For Death, that primett swell of all, 

Has laid him on the floor, 
And left us here, alas ! to bawl, 

Sir Daniel is no mote ! 



Here lies Sir Daniel Donnelly, 

A pugilist of fame ; 
In Ireland bred and born was he 

And be was genuine game ; 
Then if an Irishman you be, 

When you have read this o'er, 
Go home and drink the memory 

Of him who is no more. 

%* Mr Jennings' Epitaph is no doubt very beautiful, but we have been in- 
formed by letter from tne committee in Townes' Street, Dublin, appointed to 
erect the Donnellv testimonial (which, we are happy so say, will shortly be 
raised near the Wellington testimonial in that city), that another epitaph has 
been decided on. We intend soon to devote a paper to the " Donnelly testi- 
monial," in which we shall probably enter into a comparison between the two 
great Irishmen, for whom the gratitude of their country is raising these tri- 
butes— WellingtJon and Donnelly. Meanwhile, we subjoin the Epitaph. I* 
may not be amiss to state, that the committee laudably requested permissicp* 
from the Earl of Huntingdon, to imitate the Epitaph on his great ancestor^ _ 
which his Lordship, an Irishman himself, was most graciously pleased to gran 

tUnneroeatf) tfite pillar Jtg& 
life* ©ir Daniel JDomuHp ; 
tyz toa* a *tout ana fjanfcg man, 
.flitt people cafleti fjttn " IBufiing 3Dan ;" 
2&nfa$tfio<ft Je tool from c&eorge'* jrinoru, 
arm toll fie toote it, ft? m? tootn ! 
I^e fetal at left from fortgwteben 
Gambler* of nunci Je Drank one eben ; 
SD'ettfctoton bg puttcjj, anfjarmeo bp ttsjt, 
t)z Tjtetj unbeaten flugtturt ! 
&ur) a buffer aa JDormelTp, 
SretanU never again mil! see. 

Obiit xiii Kal. Martii mdcccxx. 



I ssnd you my mite, to join the other poets of Ireland in the universal waiL-S 
over Sir Daniel Donnelly. The song I transmit is to the tune of the Groves-^ 
of Blarney. If you have never heard the original words, which were written 
by the late Mr Richard Millikin of this city, go get Terry Magrath, my good 
friend and fellow-citizen, who is at present in Edinburgh, to sing it for you. 
It is an excellent song, and he sings it divinely. I am sure, that after you 

* Poor Dan kept a public-house, Lord rest his souL What potheen is cannot be un- 
derstood by those who taste it not. 
f Robin Hood. See the epitaph in Percys Relique*, vot i. p. J*, and elsewhere. 

Letter from Mr Dounkn. 901 

L him you will participate in my indignation against Mr Thomas 
t and melodist, lor having travestied ao delightful a poem in his song 
with, " 'Tib the last rose of Summer."— I am, Sir, your very humble 

Richa&d Downix. 
ttUntian, March 31, 1890. 

you wish for minutes of the interesting proceedings of this Institute, 
m hihliotbeeical assistant, I can help you* Or if you hare any 
be memoirs of the Cork Philosophical and Literary Society. I could 
tme aid in that respect also. 

ig, to the tune of the Groves of Blarney, being in Lamentation fir 
apy death of Sir Daniel Donnelly, Kt. C. /•* By Rich a*t> Do waiir. 

tails you* fyebeauteous people, 
ye dropping the nit, salt tear, 
our tipple stand like a steeple, 
-e stirring about the beer?** 
[ spoke to some honest fellows, 
grief in Cork's own town, 
uy's, sign of the bellows, 
■est of $Beamish's brown. 
Si hulk, nulla, hulls, hulls, 

that answered me in a minute, 
do you come from, my honest 

and, the devil's in it 
n\ know *tis all for Dan ! 
ir Daniel, that was no spaniel, 
a bull-dog of Irish game, 
i whacks on the bullying Sazon,§ 
a honour of Ireland's name. 
Hulla, hulla, Ac 

1 Oliver, just as Gulliver |1 
he Lflhputwn'a house ; 
a butter, that would not suffer, 
aeJt,cufF, or thump like a mouse ; 
lea, or bright Orion, 
FJug Brian, rimamed Boso', 
the Danes, Sir, quit CiontarTs 

i Boney quit Waterloo, 
alia, nulla, dec 

by Regent was so delighted, 
great valour be did evince, 
fas cited, ay and invited, 
be knighted by his own Prince ; 

•J Sir Richard Phillips, or Sir Bob Wilson, 
Could not compare with him in worth ; 

For this transaction, mar satisfaction 
Crown every action of George the Fourth. 
Hulla, huQa, Ac. 

" Was I a poet, 'us I would show it, 

And all should know it this cruel night ; 
I'd give the nation a bold oration 

In drrlamarinn and letters bright : 
From Cork and Kerry to f Londonderry 

A mullagane I'd sadly roar. 
With sweet Poll deary, and Judy Leery,** 

The blood-ieUucus of my Lord Donough- 

UuQa, huQa, Ac 


" O Counsellor Council, <Cnea» M'Don- 


And Charier Phillips, my speaking man, 
How you would swagger in trope and figure, 

If you wan paid for peaking Dan ! 
But without money, none of 'em, honey. 

Can bear to wag their humbugging jaw ; 
They're not worm naming, the set of 

limbs of the law.** 



So sung this sporter, over his porter, 

Chanting as sweet as a nyhtingalc ; 
Even Nebuchadnezzar, or Julius Casar, 

Would gladly stay, 8b, to hear the tale. 
I bet a penny, that Mr Rennie,tt 

And Mr Duvy.jg himself beside, 
Would'nt make a duty* one half so pretty, 

On brave Sir Daniel, our Irish pride. 
Hulla, holla, Ac 

anmpion of Ireland, not Cork Institution. Sir Daniel never was a professor here, 
aauteous people, or rather the beautiful people, is the classic appellation for 
t the M beautiful city" is Cork. 

i stout, brewed by Messrs Beamish and Crawford, in the South Main Street, 
pod stuff it is. 

HjKAiimn , or a man of English descent, is called in Ireland (as in the High* 
fland) a Ssstrnagh or Saxon. 
Mover's travels. Verbum Sap. 
fwt knights. 

avad from a MS. addition, (which, though never published, is always in stag- 
fee Groves of Blarney, to the great comfort of the noble Lord, 
as Irish orators. 

lasjaw lecturer on metaphysics, Ac in Cork. 
mm of Cbtmktrjr, god secretary to the Cork Institution. 

109 Luctui on the Death of Donnelly. ZM*y 


Cork, May 14th, 1690. 
KM mioi,— The Article Boiiana, in lyoor Magazine for March hit, efiowcl- 
ed we a* much vJaalketiaa »m ever I recollect to have experienced in tiu; perusal 
of any periodical paper. Your heartfelt interest in the grand national qnere, 
*' Could Donnelly have beat Crib ? Could Carter hare beat Donnelly ?" hai in- 
duced mc, aa Secretary to the Cork Philosophical and Literary Society, to com— 
' Lie to you the truly eloquent and pathetic eloge, delivered before that 
, immediately subsequent to the notifieation of the Death of the never- 
w -„-jufficiently lamented Sir Daniel Donnelly. The Cork Philoaophical and 
Literary Society justly ranks a* the first public institution in the South of Ire- 
land, and is inferior to none in the British Dominions in general utility ; its 
!, therefore, cannot but be acceptable to every true lover of science. 

\ a \ Early on the evening of Wednesday the SSd March, the assembly of talent 

and beauty, (£) in the Hall, (c) belonging to the society, was unprecedented in 
the memory of the oldest member ; the chair was richly ornamented with 

a, A quarto volume t 
under the *uperiniradena: of J. Ilmnif of Gin 
From the hiA literary tame of Mr Kennie, ind the innate value of the papers Ihcrutdre*, 
it is exMcteothe philosophical world win be furnished with a treat, nnpsiallrlid in any 
tnuMsraora of modern d*jt 

ft, Foe the further eluaiUtion of this subject, it may be nirraasry to inform you, that 
" hi Society, provided, for the three hours (bey sit there, they remain 

this, bra 
m capable 

ie of the members, is nmce i ved to be »<very gnat b 

of delivering their aftnuanra, and contributing to the interest of the dis- 

■■■" ■"■ - l: - 1 - '■" -'- l ikmgsto theses. 

1 1) when, d 

i, should be restricted from that privilege, which to peculiarly bel 
-■■■■:- ■-■ " — (mirabile dicta! 

the reading of a paper a short time since on me obstetric art, » respectable widow lady 
begged to offer a lew remarks in o pp os iti on to the theory brought forward by the learn- 
ed author of die paper. She was maundy called to drier, and severely censured ; this 
was certainly carrying the reatrietJou too tar 
the subject, ™ worth folio, of theory. 

e, At an UhistTatiati of the above, I tram 
particularly obliged, if you yourself win a 

little elevated above the floor, and strewed round with shamrocks, emblematical of the 
country that gave " the Donnelly" birth. No- t, Tbe treasurer 1 ! scat and a dak. s 
large willow branch waving over him. No. 3. The secretary with a cmilar desk. Ac 
a branch of cypress. No. 4. A circular tank at which the reader tits, and/roaft the 
president, the table covered with a black doth, and furnished with wai candles, decanter* 
of water, rummers, &c No. S. S, 5, 5, The ladies' teat. No. 6, 6, 6, 6, The gentk- 
men's seat, No. 7, The entrance. 

i other fwnrrnal eaalfans, and the lamps and a superb lustre were de- 
with festoons' of cypi e as and willow, producing an effect solemn and 
re beyond description, and the dead and awful sQenos that prevailed 
' interrupted at broken intervals by, the long drawn breath and sap* 
igh; (rf) at length ^President, having taken the Chair, Mr Richard 
ar os e, and in a tremulous tone of vote, that evidently betray- 
inward tumult and agitation of his son], addressed the meeting as 

PmisiniKT !— Never have I who, in all the pride of conscious 
dy/ experienced my utter in- dignity, stood on the loftiest pinnacle 
to do justice to an important of fame and honour; He! (hear!) 
-never have I felt myself so whose virtues were as the refreshing 
ibnrrassed as on the present dews of Heaven ; He 1 i s gone 1 !i 
lg occasion, (e) {hear! hear!) The inexorable arm of the King of Ter- 
look arouna, and behold the rors has widowed every heart of sen- 
f genius that surrounds me, sibility. The chilling gloom of de- 
bar /) my heart sinks within spair nas frozen every souL Crib is 
my nultering tongue almost glad ; Carter rejoices ; Hall, Cooper, 
s office. I confess my weak- and Oliver, are avenged ! England . * 
iedare my inability. I throw triumphs. ' Donly is dead, and Erin { 
pen your candour. I confide is no more!' {a general burst offtel- ■ 
Serality of a generous, an en- ing; the sobs of the ladies greatly pre- 
| public, {hear! hear!) Yea, dominating!!) 
see by anticipation that in- " Great Shade ! (/) where art thou 
i from you, that will kindle a now ? O ! that the thin airy presence 
gratitude in my breast, never, of thy spirituality were hovering 
sjinguished but by death 1 round us, to hear the humble tribute 
bar 7) Mr President ! How paid to thy departed worth— to behold 
all things here below ! The thy memory watered with a nations 
[ng morn of life is the dark tears ! (g) {hear him !) Sir Daniel 
rrening of Death ! The dawn was descended, by the mother's side, 
otis the twilight of the grave! from the illustrious Peter Corcoran, 
Olid capt towers, the gorgeous a hero, beneath whose arm proud AI- 
the solemn temples, tne great bion oft did crouch, and through his 
sd& yea, all that it inhabit, father, from the mighty Ryan, tnefor- 
— ivf, and, like the baseless' midable opponent of the irresistible 
f a vision, leave not a wreck Johnson. The blood of heroes efarcu- 
' c Pallida mors smjuo pul- lated in his veins ; the acts of his fare- 
pauperum tabernas regumaue fathers fired his imagination ; the ge- 
He I (hear!) who but a raw nius of Erin presided at his birth, and 
ra sines waa tne glory of our nursed him with a parent's csre ! Of 
e ! {hear !) whose intellectu- his deeds, what shall we say ? His ac- 
eorporeal energies were the tions, who shall record? Wno amongst ., 
f every tongue ; He ! {hear us is adequate to the task of speaking [ 
who basked in all the sun- his praise r What language is capable *i, 
T prosperity; He! {hear!) of conveying, even in the faintest de- |] 


ngst the decoration* mentioned above, I had almost fo rgo tt en to notice a beeuti- fj 

avast full length portrait of Sir Daniel, elevated considerably above the chair, j 

d from behind by sis argand patent lamps, and forming an exquisite contrast 
(bean and sorrow oat reigned below. It was executed lor the occasion by Mr 
trait painter to the Society, and reflects equal honour on mat grntlsmsn for hia I 

an artist, and his feelings as a man : After it has been exposed for a sufficient U 

m Exhibition Gallery, it is the benevolent intention of Mr Topp, to present it i] 

rowing widow, as a ** sweat remembrancer," of her never-to-be<iorgotten 

Dvwdsn is one of the most eminent speakers in our Society, I may say the 
ass of the Society : He was much attached to the lats 8ir Daniel, and had the 
Us instiuctioni several years, 
i the learned gr» fl«""'»i addressed the full length portrait of Sir Daniel before 

law ill ii'i voice was now completely overpowered by the sobbing of the ladies ; it 
li an ascendancy t that it required the united eJbrtsof president, vice, censors, 
I, tot restore order* 
XL 2C 

to* Sp«xk Dither** at the Cork lnHiMkil £Ka? 

gfree, any Just conception of Ms more doit his haughty foe ! ! ! (jummltmom* 

than human talents ! ! (A) Unposs o ss appttmee.) (i) 

fed of the advantages which a regular " At daybi^, on the morning^ of his 

education affords, reiving solely on interment, the inhabitants of Dublin 

the gigantic force of his own stupend- manifested their attachment to their 

ous capabilities, like the blazing co- adored champion, by era? mark at 

met, he arose before the astonished attention and respect: lie bells osT 

world, remained a abort period above the several parish churches were 

the horizon, eclipsing all competition, muffled, minute guns were fired in 

dsiizling every eye with the brilliancy the Park ; and the concourse of people 

of his career, and at length sunk to assembled in the streets was beyond 

rest amidst the acclamations of an ap- all precedent During that eventful 

nlauding country I {hear ! hear /) As day, the shops remained shut, public 

when the sun, arising in the morning, business was suspended, the theatres 

quickly dispels the dark clouds, thick were closed, and the gloom of sorrow 

mists and vapours, which surrounded and the depression of anguish pervad- 

|iim, and which vainly attempted to ed every countenance, 

obscure his ravs and dun his might- "At ten o'clock the procession moved 

ness, breaks rorth in all the meridian from Sir Daniel's mansion in SackviDe 

blase of unclouded noon, spreading street, toward's St Patrick's Cathedral 

around him life, and light* and glad- At twelve' the coffin was lowered into 

ness ; then at the approach of evening, the silent vault, and Mozart's cess* 

he calmly sinks, with inconceivable brated Requiem was performed under 

splendour, into the western wave, leav- the immediate direction of Sir John 

ing the world, it is true, in tenfold Stevenson, with an uncommon and 

darkness, but still living and existing impressive effect 

in the memory of those who were * ' Such honors Erin to her hero paid, 

crowned with nis blessings, who were ^d pe«eeful slept the mighty DonlyN 

supported and nourished by his bene* shade. 

ficent bounties I {hear! hear!) " It was the dying request of Sir 

" The domestic life of Sir Daniel Daniel that no external pomp should 

was marked by all the most endearing adorn his grave. A plain marble slab 

features that characterise the tender niarks the spot where A* is laid, "who 

husband* the fond father, the sincere, once had beauty, titles, wealth, and 

the generous friend. Early in life he fane," 

formed a connexion with an amiable 'Yet shall thy gzsvs with riaing flows* be 

and enlightened female of the Society dressed, 

of Friends, who was the balm of every And the green turf He HgbUy on thy tetast; 

wound in life, the soft and pleasing There J*** *• mom *** mait * t ***** 

pillow upon which ha reclined his ,- ^SZ 9 mutl , flll , , . ^ 

need in the awful hour of death. &*^Jff^£;£L"K 

During all the conquests which dif- Wtab 2£ ** ** ****** *** 

fused such lustre round his manly The ground now sacred by thy sttfaoss 

brow, she (Aeor him !) was ever the made.' (*) 

object of his thoughts; and though the But let us drop the curtain, the fceU 

leveUer of a Cooper, and the/ocjrof fog, of humanity forbid us to dwell 

^ 0h !^2^. far J? ^ nt ^ aire (longer on the harrowing scene!! 

interrupted the tram of his reflections, hear! hear I 

the remembrance of his beloved Re- •< jam™ _. tmmA , ^^ „ ]gmia ^ 

becca recalled his fainting powers, ^SeT^ *^ m 

st imul a ted him to fresh exertions, and y*» pn**fr l£r P « P ) . n n a» fl t fr ff | ff t T ru st- 

finally enabled him to prostrate in the to." 

A, Sir Dsniel'i great abilities were known but to few J he was a remarkably modest 
nian, and dreaded publicity, he was a warm and passionate admirer of the fine arts, per* 
ticularly poetry and music, which often " soothed his soul to melancholy ;•* he was 
deeply •killed m Oriental literature, and is supposed by many to have been the author of 

I, Here the reading of the paper was again partially taterrapted, by the removal of two 
female friend*, whoee philosophy was completely subdued by feeling. 

k 9 The anticipations of the writer have been agreeably realised. We understand, since 
Mr meanest, some reiptcfjMrf )»ds» who ta 

Speech Delivered at the Cork latiiitUion. 90S 

towden then sat down, cheered from all aides of the room, 
publication of the above will probably induce me to favour you with 
aeedings of our Society. — I remain your obedient Servant, 

Wm. Holt. 
-I will thank you to present mv compliments to Dr Thompson, when 
him, and tell nim, I have nearly finished the Meteorological Table for 
t month's Annals. 

bst pave with " riling flowers," among which the NarcUtus appeals predomi- 
Ve also understand that the Royal Society have directed the Marquis Canova, to 
saperior abilities in the production of a statue of Sir Daniel in his favourite 

Dublin, May 7th. 
i Sim,— The Subscription to the Donnelly Testimonial is now closed, 
rertiaement below,) and the amount is £2327 Irish money.— Yours 
— Pataick Cody. 

Ufa tt)e Public 

% numerous and respectable Meeting of the Friends and 
Admirers of Ireland's late Champion, 

torn m&m iD^HPiB&LLur, 


Mr. BERGIN'S Great Room, FleeUStreet, 

» following Resolutions were put from the Chair, and passed 

unanimously :— vis. 

imtid- That a Committee, consisting of Twelve respectable and solvent | 
■a, be appointed for the purpose of adopting; the most speedy and expedient 
of netting oo foot a General Subscription, to defray the expenses of a suitable 
■hi to be erected to the Memory of Ireland's late Champion, Sir Dam ibl 


neve*— That Mr. Patrick Bergin, 77, Fleet-Street, be appointed Treasurer, 
aa all SobseriptioBf ans to be handed over. 

ofcvan— That such Publicans as have been friendly to the decerned, be request- 
place, in the roost conspicuous apartments for the entertainment of their com- 
« a Box, for the purpose d receiving; Subscriptions ; with a suitable explana- 
band over it, expressing; the object of the Subntription. 
mvnn— -That those Persons alluded to in the foregoing Basomtion, do make a 
Yg Betnrn of the amount of Subscriptions received by them, and hand over 
•the Treasurer, who will five a Memorandum for the respective Sums received. 
kuvbo— That the Committee do meet at Mr. Bcrrin'$ Great Rooms, Fleet- 
v on the 17th day of March, Inst at 8 o'clock in the Evening of that Day, in j 
to ascertain the amount of Subscriptions in the Treasurer's hands, and, if ade- j 
to the end proposed, that the Committee shall forthwith proceed to receive 
■da for the erecting of the before mentioned Memorial 
blvxd— That those Subscriptions do finally close on the 1st May next. 

Sssnsnt having appeared in Carrick't Morning Po$t t with the signature of a respectable ] 
•ml annexed thereto, asserting that the body of Ireland's late Champion had been re- , 
ftosft its piece of interment ; to rebut this assertion, Mr. Patrick Cody proposed, that a { 
■umber of Friends and Admirers of the deosssed do sesompsny him to the grave; which 
Hon was immediately adopted, and the following Gentlemen did, on Thursday, the 24th | 
amsnpany Mr. Patrick Cody to the grave ; namely. Mr. P. Berjin, FleeWttreet \ Mr i 
rasTbsn-Street; Mr Qregmm. Moore-Street; Mr. PcUr KtUy, Wood-Quay ; Mr Qar-\ 
seam, Oook-Strast; Mr. Burnt, Coles-Laae-Market, and Mr.Traynor. Bess-Place, re- ' 
DtlM deceased) when they had the nave opened, and found the body of thedeesesed in, 
si state of ssftfy suffice if tn sty, that it was impoMible to take awaj the body, a watch J 
been planed nightly, until Thursday, the 2d March, when a temporary but yet secure ] 
ad been erected over the grave. J 

Ida* 3d March, IMQ. 

VubUa: Printed by W. USEE RWOOD, 19, St Andrew Street. 

WotdswortKs After JfceVfe*. TM*1 




Thxib is something exquisitely dis- can suppose for a moment that the 

eoursging in the conclusions to which applauses of oar Jteviewem her* gen- 

b esim review of the effects of eon* tribute* a auttW iota to the splendour 

temporary criticism in England must of the reputation of the highest? The 

load ovary man of toler a b ly sound utmost vanity of the vainest critic 

jadeamt; sad in regard to no de- alive, ess scarcely feed him to flatter 

pernrontw timreiyexeriiaassrs tneso lamsBir snat nee same ox sfyron^ eer 

necessary cendusioas so discouraging exameie, would have been «ne vsfait 

as in that of the criticism of Poetry, less, had he never acknowledgMl, by 

This age has unquestionably produced one expression of admiration, that his 

a noble band of British Poets—each se- spirit was capable of understanding 

parated from afl the rest by abun- tne mastery of Byron. 
dant pecuharitieB of style end man* It is an easier matter, however, to 

ner»-«ome far above others in skill to prevent Reputation float beginning bo 

embrace and improve the appliances of rise, than to. lend her efleettfel eai 

popularity — but all of them successful after her ascent has once been trium- 

in the best and noblest sense of that phandy begun: end therefore it is, 

term, because all of them bound to- . that we 5ttn«tMfT the total failure of 

gether, (however little some' of. them- all the attempts which have been made 

selves may suspect it) by rich parti- to check the fame of Wordsworth, as 

dpation in the . stirring and exalting a still more convincing proof of the 

spirit # the same eventful sge— an imbecility concer n ing which ■we apeak, 

age distinguished above almost all its than any one cwctrahstance besides ift 

predecessors by the splendour of ex- the literary history of our time. If 

temal r things, bet still more distu> the shafts of dishonest malice have at 

gnishea by the power and energy any moment wounded the high spirit 

which these have reflected upon tne of the Poet himself— and if the pertU 

intellect and imagination of its chil- narfty of the wicked zeal with which 

<Jren. That the poetical productions he has been persecuted, has prevent* 

of Scott, and Byron, and Wordsworth, ed his genius from going abroad so 

and Souther, and Coleridge-^-however speedily and so widely in its workings 

differing from eat* ether to shape and as nature meant it to do—the fault of 

feature— are yet all kindred to each die critics has not been small :— end 

other by their part in the common their repentance should not be the 

Soul and Thought of the time that has less, because it is mingled, with a sense 

witnessed their birth, cannot be doubt- of their own essential, if not universal 

ed by any man capable of reading inferiority to the person who has tans 

them as -they ought to be read — now : been injured, 
and wijl certainly be doubted by Nothing is more common than ie 

no one whatever that reads them talk about the unpopularity of Words- 

taty years fence, Yet, when a man worth ,*— but, after all, ween inclin- 

asms of himself, for a moment, what ed to doubt very much, whether at 

has ratty been said— what retnarlc* any moment for many years pest, he 

worthy df the name have reaHv been can, with any propriety, be said to 

uttered concerning any one of these have lain under the reproach of un- 

Beets— how lamentably mast we feel popularity. The true Acceptation of 

the worthleasness of all the criti- a Poet does not surely cones* in the 

cism of. tne most taitrcal age ever wideneas to which his name is blown 

the world produced. The result to on the four winds of heaven. Ever 

which we come, mast of necessity be since Wordsworth began to write, he 

this, that in the history, not of one, has fixed the attention of every ge- 

bat of ail and of each of these great mrine lover and student of Bnghsh 

Poets, the independence of the march Poetry; and all along he has received 

of Genie* towards Fame has been most from these the tribute of honour due 

rally and entirely exemplified. Who to the felt and received power of his 

• The River Duddon, a serial of Sonnets : Vaudraeour and Julia : and other poems. 
To which is annexed, a Topographical description -of the Country of the Lakes, in tea 
Ntcta of England; by Wil&au Wordsworth. Loudon, Longman & C* ltfcO 

Wat4i*9rtk p i Biotr DuddtiU 90? 

id-attach nit our admins yean ago, uaed to talk of writing 

mb of nil contemporaries, " The Brook." It has been die fi*- 

ylsrnciea hate been more tune of Coleridge to see not a few of 

^ ap pla ude d «w e rather think his plana executed by other hands than 

nay hare more reason to envy his own ; but we are much mistaken 

th lor the depth of medi* if the present near approach to " The 

chhasm-odnctmiu have call* Brook," will give him any thing but 

than he can hate to envy pleasure. It is impossible for us to 

>y of their more buoyant ana enter upon any analysis; but we give 

ft symbols of successful art. the following six an specimens of the 

f we be not greatly miatak* whole thirty-three Sonnets* 

laworth has been read by 

_s xv* M<M * mm.1.. ~p &Z What aspect laws ma Man who roved at fisd* 

saltoinort popular of his F ir*cfm7oibs,»tederkdel^^ 

ansa fbr tne safeeot Poetry. ^ th ^ muusU Current slaked his Ai «tt f 

e, we doubt, whether the what hopes asms wkh aim r what dssfca* 

f Spencer, or of Dryden, or were spread 

ibon himself, be at thia in* Along hfci path f His tamiotefted bed 

r nmiliar to a larger portion What dreams ca cnmp aa J d ? Was las In* 

iingPubbc of England than tradsrmns'd 

ftB&worth. In hideous usages, and rites accurs'd, 

y in which the fame of thia Tbai *££*? U?b « "* ***>*** 

Men attacked by the Edin- Novelet repHes:-4he earth, the air is mute; 

iew0ra,nas already frequent- a,^ Thou, blue ataaudet, mmm uih at 
I ns to speak of the philoso- yieUftt no more 

it in whkh the more pecu- Than s soft record that whate?er fruit 

actions of his genius are Of ignorance thou rmghVst wila esi hereto* 
: bat in the present volume, m fore, - 

native strength and origin- i»7 *™cnon ■ *» * heal and to iiestore, 

b genius are most perfectly To,00 ^. a ? d de " nie ' ** «»*^*»P<*- 
oot a few of his customary . 

as of style and manner are Mountain Stream ! the Shepheid and his 
Mtuy less prominent than in cot 

I ftnner publications; and Arc privileged Immtes of deep solitude; 

It is not necessary to preface Nor would the nicest Anchorite exclude 

IS from it by any thing like A field or two of brighter green, or plot 

te portico of disquisition. If ^^MP^^ ** ■esmemHkc a spot 

es which we quote do not 2f£ t ^ T tS^ S ^A^^ 

Dftke our readers loath for Thewon^Diiddon! win their paths re- 

* fSL^l " L ? ia L Difc " By fits and starts, yet this cosdettts tenet. 

xid Poets, ore. and aexnow- Thrt hath some awful Spins hrrfrtHtrt to 

see that this author is a ge» kave, 

gush classic, in the purest Utterly to assert, the haunts of men, 

staenaeof the term, we shall Though simple thy companions vers anil 

r ewer of the effects of poet- fa* < 

l fa a very different matter Andtta^tlu»wad<me»«|»»g«cla«e 

dri^ofiedfecuofcriti. gEzx&rjzs+z 

it part of this volume is oc- passu* ^^ 

th a aeries of Sonnets, which Wwiwl a- Ammttk .*««. -i*-* m^j.. 

. ■ • /» • rrom mis deep cna«o-— wnere otusenng 

sandered as forming some* >im 4>eams play 

unlike one poem— The sub- Upon its loftiest crags-mmc eyas behold 

liver Duddon ; a stream Ag|eomyNiCfln v eapseioea % blank v sj^eold{ 

sring down one of the most A concave free from shrubs and mossesgrey; 
rafleys in the dbuntry of the In semblance fresh, as if, with dke affiW, 
r, throughout the whole of Some Statue* placed suM these >immdil 
sen fknifikr and dear to the For "*«f ■**"»» thence had roUad, 

v forming a poem on such a ^^ * 

belongs originally, as Mr of slow endeavour I or abruptly cast 
tt mentions, to his lllustri* into rods shape by fire, with roarme blast 
I.Mr Ctoisridge ; who, many Tempestuously 1st loots from sjssWcmsA 


Wordmdorth'i Rmtr Dmddmi. 

M by the tosbulene* of 
when o'er highest hilli the Dotage 

Whence that low race?— A whisper from 

the heart, 
That told of daya long peat when here I 


With friends and Hndred tenderly beloved { 
Some who had early mandates to depart, 
Yet are allowed to steal my path athwart 
By Duddon'a aide ; once more do we unite, 
Once more beneath the kind Earth'a tran- 
quil light; 
And amether'd jovs into new being start 
From her unworthy seat, the cloudy stall 
Of Tune, breaks forth tnumphant Memory ? 
Her gfistening news bound, yet light and 

As golden lock* of Much, that rise and fell 
On gales that breathe too gently to recal 
Aught of the lading year's hidrinfinc y ! 


A love-lorn Msid, at some ftr«distant time, 
Came to this hidden pool, whose depths stn> 

In crystal clearness Dian's loolring-glass ; - 
And* o»««w- saw that lose* which nam *h* 

Derives its name, reflected as the chime 
Qf echo doth reverberate some sweet sound: 
The starry treasure from the blue profound 
She longM to ravish i— shall she plunge, or 


moat poetical pbiloeophy. It will re- 
mind those aajuainted with lto earner 
works, of the Z>aodowaia / and asnaty 
diem that have never seen that pro- 
duction, how absurdly the charge of 
" silly simplicity" has been brought 
against the general tenour either of 
the thought or the language of Mr 
Wordsworth. The troth is, that 
among ail the English poets who have 
written since Milton, there is none, 
except Gray, who has erer caught 
the true inspiration os? the Grecian 
Lyre with the same perfect dignity at 
the great poet of the Lakes. Taypng 
of language merely-— we remember 
nothing in the whole poetry of his 
contemporaries, to be compared with 
the uniform and unkboared state threat 
of his march in the T iiwrdamisj the 
Sonnets to Liberty, and the Allowing 



Fair is the Swan, whcee majesty , prevailing 
O'er breeaelsss water, on tocawno a lake, 
Bears him on while proudly sailing 
He leaves behind a moon-illumined wake ; 

lite humid precipice, and arise the guest 
Of April, smiling high in upper air ? 
Desperate alternative ! what fiend could dare 
To prompt the thought ?— -Upon the steep 

rock*i breast 
The lonely Primrose yet renews its bloom* 
Untouched memento of her hapless doom I 

No record tens of lance opposed to lance. 
Horse cbaiging horse *mid these retired do- 

Behold I the mantling spirit of 
Fashions his neck into a goodly curve ; 
An arch thrown back between luxuriant 

Of whitest garniture, like fir-tree boughs 
To which, on some unrnhTd meriting, dings 
A flaky weight of winter's purest snows I 
—Behold!— as with a gushing impulse 

That downy prow, and softly cleaves 
The mirror of the crystal flood, 
Vanish inverted hill, and shadowy wood. 
And pendant rocks, where'er, m gfiding 

Nor that their turf drank purple from the 

Of hemes felTn, or struggling to advance, 
Tfll doubtful combat issued m a trance 
Of victory, that struck through heart and 

Even to the inmost seat of mortal pains, 
And lightened o'er the pallid countenance. 
Yet, to the loyal and the brave, who lie 
In the blank earth, neglected and forlorn. 
The passing Winds memorial tribute pay ; 
The Torrents chaunt their praise, »nfiw«g 

Of power usurp'cV-with proclamation high, 
And glad acknowledgment of lawful sway. 

Our next extract shall be Dion, a 
magnificent strain of moat classical 
and eners^c^poetry, imbued intense- 
ly with tine spirit of ancient grandeur, 
and enriched with all the depth and 
gracefulness of Mr Wordsworth's own 

the mute Creature, without visible 

Or rival, save the Queen of night 
Showering down a silver light, 
From heaven, upon her chosen favourite ! 

80 pure, so bright, so fitted to embrace, 
Where'er he turn'd, a natural grace 
Of haughtiness without pretence, 
And to unfold a still magnificence, 
Was princely Dion, in the power 
And beauty of his happier hour. 
Nor less the homage that was seen to wait . 
On Dion's virtues, when the lunar beam 
Of Plato's genius, from its lofty sphere. 
Fell round him in the grove or Academe, 
Softening their inbred dignity austere ;— 

That he, not too elate 

With setf-surBcing solitude. 
But with majestic lowliness endued, 

Might in the universal bosom reian, 
And from aneetionate olwimm gam, 
Help, under every change of advene fate. 

1 IftW.] 

Wordsworth 9 $ Rher Duddon. 


~ md wirriufri-0 the rapturous 

cmwn'4 with flowers, and ann'd with 
spear and shield, 
^ ler weapon whkh their course might 

Trfflfsacuae advance in bright array. 

them on ?— The anxious People 

I'd Dion marching at their head, 
Mt also crown'd with flowers of Sicily, 
"ma white, far-beaming, corslet clad ! 
undisturbed by doubt or 

fed ; and, rushing to the plain, 
Salute those Strangers as a holy train 

eat profession (to the Immortals dear) 
brought their precious liberty again. 
! when the gates are enter'd, on each 
the long street, rich goblets ffll'd with 

In seemly order stand, 
On tablet set, as if for rites divine ;— 
And, wheresoe'er the great Deliverer pass'd, 

Fruits were strewn before his eye, 
And flowers upon his person cast 

In boundless piodkality : 
ISor did the general voice abstain from 

Invoking Dion's tutelary care, 
JU if a very Deity he were ! 

He bean an uncouth sound-* 
Anon his lifted eyes 
Saw at a long-drawn gallery's dusky bound, 
A Shape, of more than mortal sue 
And hideous aspect, stalking round and 
A weman's garb the phantom wore, 
And fiercely swept the marble floors- 
Like Auster whirling to and fro, 
His force on Caspian foam to try ; 
Or Boreas when he scours the snow 
That skins the plains of Thessaly, 
Or when aloft on Menalus he stops- 
His flight, mid eddying pine-tree tops ! 

So, but from toil less sign of profit reaping, 
The sullen Spectre to her purpose bowed, 

Sweeping— vehemently sweeping- 
No pause admitted— no design avowed ! 
" A vaunt, inexplicable Guest !— avaunt 
Intrusive Presence !— Let me rather see 
The coronal that coiling vipers make ; 
The torch that flames with many a lurid 

And the long train of doleful pageantry 
Which they behold, whom vengeful Furies 

Who, while they struggle from the scourge 

to flee, 
Move where the blasted soil is not unworn, 
And, in their anguish, bear what other 

minds have borne ! 


Moan, HUs and groves of Attica ! and 

IBjwai» bending o'er thy classic urn ! 
Horn, and lament for him whose spirit 

'Your ones sweet memory, studious walks 

and shades ! 
Vwkhn who to divinity aspir'd, 
listen the breath of popular applause. 
But through dependence on the sacred laws 
Fnsned in the schools where Wisdom dwelt 

retir d, 
Intent to trace the ideal path of right 
(Mae fair than heaven's broad causeway 

psVd with stars) 
Which Dion learn'd to measure with de- 

But he hath overleaped the eternal bars ; 

And, following guides whose craft holds no 

wkh aught that breathes the ethereal ele- 

Htth stained the robes of civil power with 

JJjMy shed, though for the public good. 

"Woe* doubts that came too late, and 
wishes vain, 

HoQow excuses— and triumphant pain ; 

A ^ oft bis cogitations sink as low 

At, thransjh the abysses of a joyless heart, 

P* aetfiest plummet of despair can go— 

** vasnea that sudden check ?— .that fear. 
fa) start i 

y<>L. vii. 


But Shapes that come not at an earthly call, 
Will not depart when mortal voices bid ; 
Lords of the visionary Kye whose lid, 
Once raised, remains aghast and will not 

Ye Gods, thought He, that servile Imple- 
Obeys a mystical intent t 
Your Minister would brush away 
The spots that to my soul adhere ; 
But should she labour night and day, 
They will not, cannot disappear.— 
Whence angry perturbations, — and tliat 

Which no Philosophy can brook t 


Ill-fated Chief! there are whose hopes are 

Upon the ruins of thy glorious name ; 
Who, through the portal of one moment's 

Pursue thee with their deadly aim ! 
O matchless perfidy ! portentous lust 
Of monstrous crime .'—that horror-striking 

Drawn in defiance of the Gods, hath laid 
The noble Syracusan low in dust ! 
Shudder the walls — the marble city wept— 
And sylvan places heaved a pensive sign ; 
But in calm peace the appointed Victim 

As he had fallen in magnanunitv \ 


210 Words worth* s Rher Duddo*. 0*a*y 

Of spirit too c a pacious to require Flattered and feared, despised yet drrfosl. 

That Destiny her ooane should change ; In Troynovant, his teat by silver 

too just aide! 

Tohii own iisiive greatness to desire From that wild moon where the 
Tnat wretenea boon, days lengtuened ny ****** 

mwdrust. , • Lay in concealment with his scanty 

So were the hopeless troubles, that involved Supporting life by water from the a ^ w 

The torfofDic«, instantly diawlvU Andsuch chance food as outlaws can obSn, 

Beleasd from hfe and cares of princely Unto the few whom he esteems his friensl* 

•tate, A messenger he sends ; 

He left tins moral grafted on his Fate, j^ f nm fa^ 9Kni JoyJty requires 

•• Him onlv pleasure leads, and peace at- shdter aiid dafly breadV-4he amount of Iria 

tends; desires. 

Him, only him, the shield of Jove defends, Mn .. , , . 

Whose means are fair and spotless as his While he the issue waits, at early mom 

ends." Wandering by stealth abroad, he ehaa 

to hear 

This we have quoted at full length. A startling outcry made by hound and 

We wish it were in our power to fol- From which the tusky boar ham fled in 

low the same course with the fine old And, scouring tow'rds him o'er the 
British or Armorican legend of Artcgal „¥^? D, i_ 

and Elidure. We must omit, how- „ Behold fcetater tiam! 

ever, the introduction to it, which is He bids lus little compaiiy advwee 

a up i j *' MV " ;7 "' , -T i* :- Wim seeming unconcern and steady aren- 
as full of splendour as the tale itself is tenance. 

of tender and graceful simplicity. 

The royal Elidure, who leads the ehaoe, 

A King more wormy of respect and love Hath checked hisfoamingoourser-~Can it be ! 

Than wise Goibonian, ruTd not in his day; Methinks that I should recognise that face. 

And grateful Britain prospered for above Though much disguised by long adversity ! 

All neighbouring countries through his righ- He gazed, rejoicing, and again he gazed, 
teous sway ; Confounded, and 

Hepoured rewards and honours on the good; " It is the king, my brother!*' and, by 

The Op p r e ssor he withstood ; sound 

And, while he served the gods with reve- Of his own voice connrmed, he leaps upon 
due the ground. 

Fields smiled, and temples rose, and towns ^^ .,„. ^.a. 

and cities grew. Ixjng, s^ and tender, was me 
°^ he gave, 

He died, whom Artegal suc cee d s h is son ; Feebly returned by daunted Artegal ; 

But how unworthy of such sire was he ! Whose natural afteetion doubts enslave, 

A hopeful reign, auspiciously begun. And apprehensions dark and criminal. 

Was darkened soon by foul iniquity. Loth to restrain the moving interview, 
From crime to crime he mounted, till at The attendant lords withdrew ; 

length And, while they stood upon the plain apart, 

The nobles leagued their strength Thus Elidure, by words, relieved bis atrug- 
With a vexed people, and the tyrant chas'd; gling heart. 

And, on the vacant throne, his worthier too- hlMil| . VnmM ^^^^A — fc— 

ther placed. BT '^•^^"y lowers conducted, we have 

From realm to realm the humbled Exile — O Brother! to my knowledge lost so long, 

went, But neither lost to We, nor to regret, 

Suppliant for aid his kingdom to regain ; Nor to my wishes lost, forgive the wrong. 

In many a court, and many a warrior's tent, (Such it may seem) if I thy crown have 
He urged his persevering suit in vain. borne, 

Him, in whose wretched heart ambition Thy royal mantle worn : 

failed, I was their natural guardian ; and 'tis just 

Dire poverty assailed ; That now I should restore what hath been 
And, tirea with slights which he no more held in trust.** 

TowJThU "nrita mA he cart » longing £*■»*• M » a ? i ^ d ^8^ 2S,"?* 

»* °^° Then thus exclaimed — " to me of title shorn 

And stripp'd of power ! me, feeble, destitute, 

Fair blew the wish'd-for wind— the voyage To me a kingdom !— spare the bitter scorn ! 

sped ; Jf justice ruled the breast of foreign kings 
He landed ; and, by many dangers scared, Then, on the wide-spread wings 

" Poorly provided, poorly followed," Of war, had I returned to claim my right ; 

To Calaterium's forest he repaired. This will I here avow, not dreading thy de- 
How changed from him who, bom to high- spite.'* 

est place, " I do not blame thee,'* Elidure replied. 

Had swayed the royal mace, «• But, if my looks did with my words agree, 

1890.3 Wordsworth's River Duddon. 211 

I should at once be trusted, not defied, Bat Is that gloom dissolved ? how passing 

And thou from all disquietude be free. clear 

May spotless Dian, Goddess of the chace, Seems the wide world— far brighter than be- 

Who to this blessed place fore ! 

At this bleat moment led me, if I speak Even so thy latent worth will re-appear, 

With insincere intent, on me her vengeance Gladdening the people's heart from shore td 
I shore. 

Were this same spear, which in my hand I For ^mrol fcnlts ripe virtaes shall atone, 

t wnut n Re seated on thy throne. 

The Bndrfi sceptre, here would I to thee Proof ahajt thou furnkh that miafortune, 

The symbol yield; and would undo this A . P* m > , _ . , . . , A 

clasp, And sorrow, have confirmed thy native right 

If H confined the robe of sovereignty. to reign. 

Odious to me the pomp of regal court, But, liot to overlook what mounmy'st know, 

And joyless sylvan sport. Thy enemies are neither weak nor few, 

J ^^T^zL iw 7 »*"» «*j * w * ^ Or from my purpose ruin may ensue. 

*«*"*« * Dismiss thy followers;— let them calmly 
Then Artegal thus spake—' 1 1 only sought, wait 

Within this realm a place of safe retreat ; Such change in thy estate 

Beware of rousing an ambitious thought ; As I already have in thought devised ; 

Beware of kindling hopes, for me unmeet ! And which, with caution due, may soon be 
Thou art reputed wise, but in my mind realised.* 9 

Art pitiably blind : 

Pull soon this generous purpose thou may 'st The story tells what courses were pursued, 

roe, Until King Elidure, with full consent 

When that which has been done no wishes Of all his Peers, before the multitude, 

can undo. Rose— and, to consummate this just intent, 

Who, when acrown is fixed upon his head, Did p^ upon lusBroUier's head the Crown, 

Would balance claim with claim, and right _. Minauished by his own ; 

with right ! Thea to his people cned, •• Receive your 

m ^" xca Gorbonian's first-born Son, your rightful 

WooMst change the course of things in all King restored !" 

sjsjaaaeiSi sk sansswat ■ 

And this for one who cannot imitate The deep breath of simple uncon- 

Thy virtue, who may hate : scious grace diffused oyer the whole of 

For, if by inch strange sacrifice restored, this poem will, if we may judge from 

He reign, thou still must be his king, and ourselves, to the mind of every reader 

sovereign lord. ^ CaU up him that left half told 

Lifted in magnanimity above The story of Cambuscan bold." 
Aught that toy feeble nature could perform, 

Or even conceive ; surpassing me in love Indeed the effect of the whole of the 

Par ss in power the eagle doth the worm ; extracts we have made, will, we no-* 

I* Brother ! only should be king in name, thing doubt, be quite sufficient to 

And govern to my shame ; convince every one who has made the 

A fodow in a hated land while idl character of English poetry his study, 

WsWcnv wm^servicetothysharewould ^ ^ faf fron f deserWg to be held 

«. n r •. ^ » -j »i.j « _* up to derision as a fanciful and con- 

1^*2^ £^£2T "St* l"*™** Mr Wordsworth 
Awaits on virtuous life, ana ever most /• j j v.. *i.~ L..:.. «.«:•:* ~c u:« 
Attends on goodness with dominion decked, 0«^d by the renume spirit of his 
Which stands the universal empire's boast ; writings) is entitled to be classed with 
This can thy own experience testify : the very highest names among his pre- 
Nor shall thy foes deny decessors, as a pure and reverent wor- 
Thst, in the gracious opening of thy reign, shipper of the true majesty of the 
Our Father's spirit seemed in thee to breathe English Muse. Had he never writ- 
tgftfa- ten some few pieces, which are in- 
And what if o'er that bright unbosoming deed most dear and precious to us, 
Clouds of disgrace and envious fortune past! hut the conception as well as execu- 
tive we not seen the glories of the spring t j on f w hich we can easily con- 
Bf ^ of noontide darkness overcast ? j to be of far more questionable 
• %!£^t^El" ' excellence in the eyes of the greater 
to<^%&l£^%*eVo™ 9 ^ of those ^oU^Jor the 
Aiaitrei^aoTstrikcsthc blackened moun- mt tone, we are satisfied that the 
tain coves. most malignant critics would nevr 


£10 Wordsworth's JUver Button. QMiy 

have dared to lay one word in dero- ODE. 

gation from the sublimity or the ele- the pass op KrasrsTOKE. 

gance of his compositions. But we . '* _ 

mm inuurine nothing less enviable than Withik the mind strong fiinciet wort, 

can imagine nothing less enviable than Within the mind strong 

the feelSgs with which, at this time A deep dehght the bosorathnlls, 

of daTfr he has lived to throw %£L 1 £2P&!* 

into shade the errors (granting where, save die nigged road, w« fiod 

them to have been errors) of a few No appanage of human kind ; 

of his earlier pieces, by the solid and Nor hint of man, if stone or rock ' 

reposing grandeur of the main struc- Seem not his handy-work to mock 

ture of his poetry— than the reflections By something cognizably shaped ; 

which his pertinacious detractors Mockery— or model-roughly hewn, 

must make in spite of themselves on £"£ Ws as if by earthquake strewn, 

the conduct which they for so long ft^***!? 4 "?*£ *- 

-~i~a a„~*~a ;„ .™~i *~ u;Jr Altars for Druid service fit ; 

a period adopted in regard to him. (But whenno *r* was ever lit, 

The senseless and boyish clamours Unless the glow-worm to the skies 

with which they pursued a few tri- Thence offer nightly sacrifice ;) 

vial singularities of one of the proud- Wrinkled Egyptian monument ; 

est of men, probably served no pur* Green moss-grown tower ; or hoary tent ; 

pose whatever, except that of confirm- Tents of a camp that never shall be raised : 

ing him in the belief, that what such On which four thousand years have gated! 

people took upon them to consider as 

wrong, must of necessity be right.— Ye pj 0WgharC8 gp^ufeg on the slop* ! 

Had they been silent in regard to the Ye snow-white lambs that trip 

Betty Foy8 and the Alice Fells, we Jmprison'd mid the formal props 

should in all likelihood have had fewer Of restless ownership ! 

of that class — while, had they given Ye trees mat may to-morrow foil, 

the praise that was due to such poems To feed the insatiate Prodigal ! 

as Ruth, Michael, and Laodamia, it L ? ■*"■• houses, chattels, groves, and fields, 

is not impossible that these might, g thai *f *** **?*J ■T* 1 * ; 

long ere no^iave^n followed% ^V^S^t'S^ 

by many more productions equally Plaything8 ^ j^, mc ejt9 ^^^ 

free, as they must be allowed to be, of drowsy, dotard Time ;— 

from any of the real or supposed o care ! O guilt !— O vales and plains, 

faults of the others. Here, mid his own unvexed domains, 

Of the genius of Mr Wordsworth, A Geniu. dwell., th* <*i iabdue 

u . *?. . ., , j i At once all memory of You,— 

in short, it is now in the hands of Mo8t tent when ^ vdl ^ ^ 

every man to judge freely and fully, Mists that distort and magnify ; 

and for himself. Our own opinion, While the coarse rushes, to the sw 

ever since this Journal commenced, breeze, 

has been clearly and entirely before Sigh forth their ancient melodies ! 

them ; and if there be any one per- III# 

son, on whose mind what we have List to those shriller notes \—*hcU march 

quoted now, is not enough to make an Perchance was on the blast, 

impression similar to that which our When through this Height's inverted arch 

own judgment had long before received Rome's earliest legion passed ! 

—we have nothing more to say to that tV 1 *?* mw * ^^n^yjTOjr* 

person in regard to the subject of po- ^d older eyes than meirs beheld, 

etry. We conclude with a few sp££ This h^-and yon whose Chiirch-hk« 

mens of the more miscellaneous part Giveg to ^ ^^ Pasi ita namc . 

of this volume — which will be suffici- Aspiring Road ! that lov'st to hide 

ent to shew, that that is nothing infe- Thy daring in a vapoury bourn, 

rior to the other parts. To those who Not seldom may the hour return 

have long been familiar with Words- When thou shaft be my guide ; 

worth, and sensible to his merits, And l ( M often wc find cause » 

the " Pass of Kirkstone" will be addi- Y 1 ^ **? " * a Tf* ^^« 

tionally acceptable, on account of its £?2 ™ ^ Pf^ "* *J luU 

~-.~ • *li *i. a • x«*i. i.* • Of duty with reluctant wiD) 

connexion with the train of thought m ^ tha Jl kful$ evcn ^ h ^ ^ ^ 

one of the grandest of his early pieces, For & t rich bounties of Constraint ; 

the Ode, " Intimations of Immortali- Whence oft invigorating transports flow 

tv." That Choice lacked courage to bestow ! 


Worth morth'i River Dttddon. 



l*f y soul was grateful for delight 

That wore a threatening brow ; 

A reil is li ft ed. - o n she slight 

The scene that opens now ? 

Though habitation none appear, 

The greenness tells, man must- be mere ; 

The shelter— that the perspective 

Is of the clime in which we live ; 

Where Toil pursues his daily round ; 

Where Pity shads sweet tears, and Love, 

In woodbine bower or birchen grove, 

Inflicts his tender wound. 

—Who comes not hither ne'er shall know 

How beautiful the world below ; 

Nor can he guess how lightly leaps 

The brook adown die rocky steeps. 

Farewell thou desolate Domain 1 

Hope, pointmg to the cultur'd Plain, 

Carols nke a shepherd boy ; 

And who is she?— can that be Joy ? 

Who, with a sun-beam for her guide. 

Smoothly skims the meadows wide ; 

While Faith, from yonder opening cloud 

To hOl and vale proclaims aloud, . 

" Whatever the weak may dread, the wicked 

Thy lot, Oman, is good, my portion fair I" 

The two following pieces require no 
comment to those that are acquainted 
with the sonnets on political subjects, 
in Mr Wordsworth's earlier volumes. 



Waid of the Law f— dread Shadow of a 

In this deep knell— silent for threescore years, 
An unexampled voice of awful memory ! 



Straxger, 'tis a sight of pleasure 
When the wings of genius rise 
Their ability to measure 

With great enterprise ; 
But in man was ne'er such daring 
As yon Hawk exhibits, pairing 
His brave spirit with the war in 

The stormy skies I 


Whose Realm had 

Whose universe was gloom muners'd in 

Darkness as thick as life o'er Lifecouldfliog, 
Yetbaelyclieered with sduiefaintglimmeriBg 
Of Futh and Hope | if thou by natufe'sdoom 
Geady has sunk into the quiet tomb, 
Why should we bend in grief, to sorrowdrag, 
Whea thankfulness were best ?— Fwsh-flow- 

* togtean, 
Or, where tears flow not, sigh succeeding sigh, 
Yield to tuch after-thought the sole reply 
Which jwu> it candaus. The Nation hears 

Mark him, how his power he uses, 
Lays it by, at will resumes ! 
Mark, are for his haunt he chooses 

Clouds and utter glooms ! 
There, he wheels in downward mazes ; 
Sunward now his flight he raises, 
Catches fire, as seems, and blazes 

With uninjured plumes !— 


Traveller, 'tis no act of courage 
Which aloft thou dost discern ; 
No bold bird gone form to forage 

Mid the tempest stern ; 
But such mockery as the Nations 
See, when Commonwealth-vexations 
Lift men from their native stations, 

Like yon tuft of fern; 

Such it is, and not a Haggard 
Soaring on undaunted wing ; 
Til by nature dull and laggard, 

A poor helpless Thing, 
Dry, and withered, light and yellow ;— 
Thai to be the tempest's fellow ! 
Wait— and you shall see how hollow 

Its endeavouring ! 

The volume is concluded with a 
very singular and striking prose de- 
scription of the County of the Lakes ; 
but of this we must defer our notice 
till some future opportunity — content- 
ing ourselves, in the meantime, with 
assuring our readers, that it is by far 
the best specimen of the prose style of 
Wordsworth which has ever been given 
to the world. 


214 Literary and Scientific Intelligence. [[May 



Geological Mapt of England.—- Smith has bar ah, the famous emerald mine* which 

published a useful abridgment of his large were previously known only by die writingi 

geologicalmap of England, and also excellent of the ancient authors, and the storiaof 

geological maps of several of the English the Arabs. They had been almost forgot- 

counties. We have seen those of Oxford, ten for a long lapse of time, and were totally 

Buckingham, Bedford, and Essex. Green- unproductive to the government of the 

ough's geological map of England is just country. They were discovered by M. 

published, and does infinite credit to the Caillaud nearly in the same state in which 

judgment and skill of the distinguished they had been left -by the engineers of the 

President of the Geological Society. Ptolemies. He penetrated into a vast nam* 

Magnetic Attractions. — We are happy to ber of excavations and subterraneous canal*, 

announce, that the idea, suggested by Mr some of which are so deep that 400 men 

Barlow, and published in his valuable " Es- may work in them at once. In the minei 

say on Magnetic attractions," (See No were found cords, levers, tools of vaiioni 

XXXV. of this Magazine,) of ascertaining kinds, vases, and lamps ; and the ■ttibjr- 

the correct * Deviation,* caused by local ment of the works afforded every faeflay 

attractions, of the magnetic needle in all for studying the ancient process of mitring, 

■hips, in all positions, and in all places, by M. Caillaud himself set about working the 

the simple operation of attaching a plate of mines, and he has presented six pounds of 

Iron to the * Binnacle,' and altogether in- emeralds to Mahommed Ali Pashaw. Ib 

dependent of computation, is now under- the vicinity of the mines, the rains of t 

going , under the inventor's direction, the little town have been discovered, which ia 

ordeal of practical experiment on board ancient times was probably inhabited by'the 

his Majesty s ship, Severn, which the Lords miners : among the ruins are the remain* 

of the Admiralty, actuated by a laudable of several Grasco- Egyptian Temples wall 

and praise-worthy zeal for the improvement inscriptions. M. Caillaud has twice visited 

of nautical science, have directed to be fit- Zabarah ; during his second journey he 

ted for that purpose ; and which, we un- was accompanied by a considerable number 

understand, is snort! y to proceed to sea, of armed men, miners, and workmen, 

with Mr Barlow on board, to verify, by a whom the Pashaw had placed under hit 

still more extensive series of observations, directions. On his way to the emerald 

the' accuracy of those now making at Wool- mines, the French traveller crossed one of 

wich ; after which, it may confidently be ex- the ancient routes for the trade of India, by 

pected, that this very ingenious and highly the way of Egypt. He observed statues, 

important discovery will, from its great and enclosures for the union and prot e ction of 

permanent utility in practical navigation, caravans, cisterns, &c M. CaiUaud learnt 

become generally known and adopted; from the Arabs of the tribes of Ababdeh 

thereby preventing, in future, many of and Bycharyn, that this road led to the 

those melancholy shipwrecks, and all their ruins of a very extensive town on the bankf 

dreadful consequences, which at present so of the Red Sea, situated about the 24th de* 

frequently happen on our shores, owing to gree of latitude, near the mountain of Bibs', 

the wilful ignorance and stupidity of navi- This town has since been visited by MM* 

gators neglecting, with insufferable indif- Belzoni and Bitche, and will probably be 

ference, to make local attraction an ele- better described by them than by M. Cail- 

ment of calculation. laud. On the banks of the Red Sea, the 

Elementary Work on Navigation.— Mr traveller discovered a mountain of sulphur, 
Riddle, Trinity House School, Newcas- on which some diggings had been made ; 
tie, will speedily publish an Elementary in the neighbourhood of this mountain, 
investigation of the Theorems from which traces of volcanic eruptions were observable, 
Mendoza Rio's Tables for Navigation and and a quantity of puzzolane and other ig- 
Nautical Astronomy are constructed ; and neons substances were found. M. Caillaud 
an explanation of the artifices by which he carefully observed the mountains which se- 
has been enabled to abridge so materially parate the Nile from the Arabian Gulf, as 
both his Tables and the operations which well as the calcareous tracts of ground, and 
they are intended to facilitate. Also, an chains of mountains between the Nile and 
inquiry into the peculiar processes by the Oasis, which all belong to the primitive 
which he computes the altitude in Lunar soil. Here he examined several ancient 
observations; the Time; Latitude, by double Egyptian structures, and others of more 
Altitudes— Azimuths, Sec. &c modern date ; he discovered several very 
Antiquities.— Emerald Mines.— M. Cail- ancient vaults, thermal springs, &c Among 
laud's account of his discoveries in Egypt the Greek and Latin inscriptions which he 
will shortly be published in Paris. Some met with in his excursions, was one con- 
tan* ago he discovered near Mount 2a- taining TO lines, and about 9000 letters ; 

Literary and Scientific Intelligence. 91* 

copious by at least one-fifth than which, till then, no certain information had 

inscription on the Roeetta stone, been obtained. He likewise ascertained 

£ vast patience and labour, M. with precision the geographical route of the 

ucceeded in copying this inscrip- Zaire, with its sources, and the lakes it forms 

ee days. Though it is of recent in its progress. 

ared with the Rosetta monument, In a journey which he undertook in 1800 
longs to the age of the Emperor M. d*Etourville was taken prisoner by a 
present* some new and curious wandering tribe of Giias, who are cannibals. 
ve to the internal administration Whatever common fame has reported of 
M. CaOlaud returned last year their ferocity, is no e xag ger ati on. They 
bringing along with him a vast make war to devour their prisoners ; and it 
f drawings, notes, and antiques, is certain, as Dapper relates, that human 
capaHy in the hypogea of Thebes, flesh is sold in their markets. The blood 
se treasures have been purchased which they draw from the veins of their 
neb government. The antiques living victims, is to them a delicious Deve- 
sted in the cabinet of medals rage. M. d'Etourville remained fifteen 
lies of the king's library, and months among these barbarians. All bis 
igs will be engraved and pub- companions were devoured ; and he must 
ti descriptions in two vols, folio, have shared the same fate, had he not been 
id has again set out for Egypt, so fortunate as to cure a broken arm of the 
ber last he was at Bony-Souey, favourite mistress of the chief of the horde. 
; from Cairo. He was about to Compelled to be in the train of this troop 
the Fayoum, and to proceed to- of Gijas, he ranged through an extent of 
Oasis of Sivah. He must ere continent from the country of the Auris- 
eaade many new and interesting cans to Hulla, when he escaped from their 
is. At a quarter of a league from hands. He then proceeded to a province 
t pyramids of Sakkarah, he de- south of the western Mountains of the 
to a hypogeum sacred to the deity Moon, at a small distance from what he 
ee be found, in a kind of laby- considers as the real sources of the Nile. 
iml bulls embalmed and preserved Hereabout he fixes the empire of Droglodo, 
mea. unknown at present, but tar more civilised 
i be remarked, that M. Belzoni than the circumjacent regions. The politica 
ned the same journey not long of the government, according to M. d'Etour- 
nd perhaps had discovered this ville, bear a strong resemblance to the Chi- 
lebre of Apis, in company with nese, and the civilization of the Droglo- 
ley, son of Sir William, the dians must be traced to a very remote 

source. The merchants of Droglodo go, 

sfrrtor of Africa*— The Mar- once a-year, authorized by their govern- 

xmrville, who is at present in ment, to meet the Abyssinian merchants in 

matters of private business, in- a narrow passage of the mountain Narcar. 

his return to France, to publish They convey thither gold dust, musk, 

eating notices relative to natural pearls, precious stones, ivory, gums, anoV 

science wherein he has made num- Ethiopian slaves, in exchange for which 

Boweries, and such as well deserve they receive shawls, Indian stuffs, Turkey 

ion of the learned. He has re- carpets, and salt. 

ended certain memoranda which In this country M. d'Etourville remained 

taring his long captivity, of which about ten years ; and though in a state of 

lag is a very brief analysis* slavery, he had many opportunities of no- 

Ceoorville emigrated from France tiring the manners of the people and their 

b 1790; he there commenced a antiquities. His different observations have 

medical studies, and afterwards led him to conclude, that the Abyssinians, 

me thne in Lisbon ; taking les- the Nubians, and the ancient Egyptians, 

U science. From Lisbon he re- who built the pyramids, were all originally 

the isle of St Thomas, situated from Droglodo, which he conceives to have 

Equator, at the extremity of the been the country inhabited in ancient times 

Sumea. He remained some years by the Trogioditct. 
ind, whence occasionally he made M. d'Etourville returned to France about 

I into the western regions of Afri- the time of the re-establishment of the 

ae of these, he fortunately cured Bourbons ; but set out again, in 1814, to 

igerous wound under which the realize and secure some goods and property 

o, a prince of the country, was in Africa, whence he is expected shortly to 

Having thereby gained the fa- return, and when the full account of bis 

te prince, he attended him in an travels may be expected in the Journal of 

I or journey more than four nun- New Voyages and Travels. 
— in the interior of the conti- Trigonometrical Survey of In dia , ■ 

For some years past, a trigonometrical 

of this peregrination, M. operation lias been conducted in India, un. 

la {raced on a map the western der the auspices of the local gjwewwneafuw 

the lake Aqwdind*, respecting Lkuu+CoL Lambton hu toot tnaktoi*V| 

S16 ' Literary and Scientific Intelligence. QHay 

the aid of their proceedings, to measure, at ploy, for this purpose, spirit of wine, earn* 

different periods, an arc of the meridian what above proof, and which costs 18s. sr 

from B° 9 38" to 18° 3' 33" of north lati- 20s. per gallon. It has been ascertaiaei 

suae, the greatest that has been measured by Mr Cooke of London, that a saturate! 

on the surface of the globe. From a re- solution of muriate of soda (common ask) 

tiew of these operations, it appears that a answers the purpose equally well ; and this 

degree of the meridian near the equator, solution (about three pounds of salt to the 

contains 68,704 English miles ; that in 45° gallon) tloes not cost above lOd. per gafisfi. 

Of latitude, it is 69,030; in 51°, 69,105; Mr Cooke has received from the Soot* 

in 90°, 69,368. So that a degree of latitude, of Arts, for this discovery, the Socfetvt 

at a medium estimate, makes exactly 69 ^ v silver medal. 
English geographical miles. Straw Ropes Conductors of Electricity. 

American Expedition. — The Gazette of <~-M. M. Capestolle, a French professor «f 

8t Louis (on the Missouri, United States,) chemistry, affirms, that a rope of straw wffl 

announces the equipment of an expedi- form an excellent conductor tor lightning, 

tjon, the object of which is to ascertain and supply the place of metallic conductoo. 
the existence of a race reported to be the Comets.— It has been ascertained that oat 

descendants of certain Welsh emigrants; and the same comet returned to our system in 

they intend to comprehend all the southern 1786, 1795, 1801, 1805, and 1818-19. It 

ramifications of the great river Missouri, appears never to range beyond the orbit of 

within the limits of their excursion. This Jupiter. Its short period of little more than 

undertaking is confided to Messrs. Roberts three years and a quarter, and its mesa 

and Parry, both Welshmen, and well ae* distance from the sun, which is not much 

quaintcd with the language of both North greater than twice that of the earth. It 

and South Wales. crosses the orbit of the earth more than 60 

New Voyage of Discovery.— Advices from times in a century. 
St Petersburgh, dated March 22, state, that Distant Visibility of Motmiabu<-Mx 

a new voyage of discovery will be undertaken Morier, in his Journey through Persists 

this summer in the North. The expedition Constantinople, says, that the mmurtsm 

will sail from the mouth of the Lena for Temawhend is visible at the distance ojf 100 

the Frozen Ocean, in order to examine the miles. Sir William Jones saw the Hina- 

coast of Siberia and the islands which were lava mountains from Baugalpore, a 4a- 

d b cov er ed to the north of it some years ago. tanee of 244 miles. Bruce aaw Mooat 

As it is not yet ascertained whether these Ararat from Derbhend, a distance of MO 

supposed islands may in reality be one main British miles. 

land or not, and as hitherto they have only Dr E. D. Clarke informs us, that wad 

been visited in winter, it will be interesting standing on the shore of the HeBespoat, 

to know how far the ice will permit vessels at Sigeum, in the evening, and loociog 

to advance during summer, and to deter- towards the Archipelago, he plainly $*• 

mine its extent cemed Mount Athos, called by the pav 

Ancient Navigation.— A discovery was sants, who were with him, Agionofua, tat 

recently made in the environs of the Cape Holy Mountain ; its triple summit a> 

of Good Hope, which is highly interesting pearing so distinctly to the eye, Act at 

to history. While digging a cave, the was enabled to make a drawing of it. "The 

workmen found the hull of an ancient ves- distance," says he, " at which I viewed it 

eel constructed of cedar, which is believed could not be less than a hundred EngtiJi 

to be the remains of a Phoenician galley, miles : according to D'Anville, It m about 

If this appropriation be just, there is no SO leagues from shore to shore; and ths 

longer room to doubt that the bold naviga* summit of the mountain is at some distance 

tors of Tyre had reached the south point of from the coast" 

Africa: and if they actually gained that The greatest distance at which places have 

point, we may infer that they navigated also been seen within the scope of our own ob* 

the eastern ocean. servations, is as follows : 

Indian Wild Ass.— Gen. Sir D. Ochterio- ^ 

ny lately despatched, as a present from the Pic f Teneriffe, from a ahip's deck - 115 

Nawab of Bnawulpoor to Governor-gcneral Golden Mount, ditto - - 93 

me Marquis of Hastings, a beautiful wild Pui Per a, from the top of Pinang - 75 

ass, of that species called by the natives Got* Pu io p man g, from a ship's deck - 53 

Khur. This elegant creature ^described rhe Ghaut B at Ae ^ & Tellichery - 94 

as bemg eleven or twelve hands high, of a Ditt0 ftt c Comorin . / „ 

beautiful light fawn or cream colour, .with Adam's Pei, on Ceylon . - 95 
long ears, and large black eyes. In dispo- J 

sidon it is untraceable, and in this, as well These, perhaps, are not the g r e atest dis- 

as in every other respect, excepting the tances that these lands can be seen ; but it 

colour, resembles the zebra. It is said to may be useful to state, that all these distan* 

be a complete model of strength, beauty, ces were ascertained by the log, when run* 

and agility. — Asiatic Mirror. ning for them in a direct line ; and that their 

Cheap Mode of preserving Anatomical heights were also pretty nearly found at the 

Preparation**— It his been usual to cm* tamtumt. 

Liier^y and Scientific Intelligence. Hi 

Jmer&&^ £&*&&**%**--?*• presetting bccasfoafty ledges' 0/ racks; 

•js of Ouacfritta, which have *t terminates above in a contused mass, of 

m for man? vears, jire situa- fcrofeh rock*, The steep and othernp 

Mam called Kot-iphng Creek, sterile sides are covered with a luxuriant 

fetoJha Washitaw fiver, dsjht growth of vines. The valley between {nil 

K They Be fifty refle* snutnof and the cold mountain is about fifty yanjs 

M jhrer, in Clm county, ter- wide. — 'TW springs issue at the foot or the 

jJEpsaw, (lately Missouri),' and hot mountain at an elevation of about ten 

Wt of the road (mm Cadron to feet above the level of the creek; they an 

■trie on Red 1 RFverV-The ap- very numerous alTaJong the biU-sfde, and 

ihft swing lies up the valley of the water, which rubs in copious streams, is 

On tne right of the valley rises quite hot ; it will aeald the hand and boil 

ttrjtaitf, with the springs issuing an egg hard in ton minutes. Its tempers* 

on me left; the cold mountain, ture is considered that of boiling water* but 

tde more' than a confused and Dx Andrews, of Red River, uMn£s it is not 

ro/ stones. The hot mountain is above 200° Fahr. 
(bet high, rising quite steep, and 



Gbkmna,,a Poem m three parts, El Teatro Bspanol Moderno, VoL I. 

ER Dt added, Dramatic Sketches, containing 6 plays, with a Portrait of the 

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f Hermit in London. A Poem on the accession of his Majesty; 

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818 Monthly List of New Publications. C&ty 

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the Abuses of Popery, by Samuel Wix, Novel, Argument of a Chinese Play, Ac 

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Svo. their Terms, Hours of Attendance, Ac 

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Temples, Tombs, and Excavations, in E- Treatise on Symptomatic Fevers, which, 
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A Tour in the District of Mount Libanus Dedicated to the Right Honourable Earl 

and Antifflmnw- & A Tour in the Hau- Spencer, 
ran. 4. A Second Tour in Hauran. 5. 


The second volume of Mr Hogg's Ja- This Work, like Sir William Jones' In- 

cobite Relics is now in the press. dex to his Persian Grammar, is intended. 

An Arabic Vocabulary ana Index for Rich- by explaining all the difficulties which oc- 

ardaon's Arabic Grammar; in which the cur in translating the numerous extracts 

words are explained according to the Parts from Arabic authors found in Mr Richard- 

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their originals in the Hebrew, Chaldee, and the Oriental Languages, which are so in- 

Syriac languages ; with Tables of Oriental teresting in themselves, especially the Aim* 

Alphabets, Points, and Affixes ; by James bic, from the great stores of literature that 

Xobk, Teacher of Languages in Edinburgh, are contained in them, whilst from their 

Monthly List of New Publications. 91 d 

onecdon with the Hebrew, they Sacred Harmony, for the tue of St George's 
ways contribute highly to the pro- Church, being a collection of Psalm and 
rpvetatkm of the Original Scrip- Hymn Tunes, suited to Congregational 
By giving, also, full English ex- Singing, and adapted to all the various 
is or every Arabic word that occurs Metres of our National Church Psalmody, 
ammar, tracing it at the same time, This collection will contain about one kun- 
tfoe, to the Hebrew, Chaldee, or dred and forty-five tunes ; of these twenty- 
b which the Root of it is to be found, six are original, the rest are selected from 
lie of having recourse to large die- the most approved authors, and to all of 
is rendered unnecessary, till the them great care has been taken to procure 
has made some progress in the the most correct and pleasing harmonies, 
of the language ; and an interest- There are added six Sanctus's, six Doxolo- 
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C, and the other Oriental dialects, composed expressly for this Work. The 
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wQl be clearly seen in this Voca- alio the advantage of being set for the Organ 
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#, and of these scarcely less than instances, the index of the tunes is accom- 
i plainly traced to their originals in panied with a reference to those portions of 
www, Chaldee, and Synac Ian- Psalms and paraphrases to which their seve- 
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10 fenn the frontispiece of the Work, other advantages, this work is recommended 
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COMMERCIAL REPORT.— May 12, 1820. 

Agar.— Since our last, the Sugar market has materially improved. The demand has 
been very considerable, and the stock on hand greatly reduced, particularly of the finer 
qtafities. The supplies are beginning to arrive, out these, from causes we have in. former 
reports pointed out, must continue for some time to be limited. The consequences will, in 
•nptobability, be a farmer rise in the prices of Sugar ; and as the prosperity of the country 
beeotrKagreate, these prices may be considered as ad 

liegiiter.^Comnetcial BrpW . [Ity 

to a noper starkhtfd: For some Ae price of Sugar has been rumens' tof Aejriimtfer, M 
yielded mm no return for his capital invested in that trade.-— —C(tfft)f«^— The aspect of 
aftfar in die manufacturing districts having in' some instances become more che^rint;, (fee 
eotisemienc* fan been, that the Cotton market has been more lively, and slier have bee* 
readily and extensively effected at an advance in price. tiniest some unforeseen cahttty * 
coma upon that branch of business, the prospect is for a steady demand and mip torrsffla t ! 
in price, but which, from the stock oh hand, cannot be expected to advance great!/ tt. E 
yond the present scale. The quantity of East India Cotton on hand is stfll verV ccttai > 
erable, and die supplies from the United States also considerable.— Coffke^—Thsl in* ] 
let for Coffee has been more lively of late. The sales, both by public auction aif A I 
tat* contract have been considerable, and the prices ot the finer description! have^advawi ' 
1Phe Coffee market is likely to be steady, ana appearances would rather indicate mWib \ 
provement—— Corn. — Wheat may be stated as stationary. Oatir add barley in dettsnd, 
ind at an advance in price.— In Tobacco there is little doing— Jtam' & Mk&bMfy— 
Brandy and Geneva are on the decline.— In Indigo a demand and advance fradticlpsjfc 
—In other articles of Commerce there is no material alteration. 

The accounts from the Jamaica market are more cheering, and those ffom tfcer Unfed 
States are assuming a more favourable aspect The improvement in either, hbfJtjtiaY J 
any great extent, depends upon circumstances, the issue ot which no Juimdn - flu lihlr esj 
ascertain. The former, in pardcalaf, depends altogether upon me events psawngM 
Sooth America, where civil war rages with as great fary as ever. Buenos AtMiat a 
m a confused state. A fresh revolution, which has taken place there, mutt Ittslsf 4 
business extremely uncertain and insecure. The revolution in Old Spain, also, to a ""' 
anticipated by many as an opening to our trade, is certain to have a different result 
far as either the government and' people have shewn their feelings on tin* 
views, as might have been expected, are hostile to the introduction of foreign r 
except upon conditions only favourable to themselves ; and there is good grounds t^sss- 
pose, that wherever the new order of things is' submitted to in the Spanish Colowka, m 
this will enforce stricter regulations upon the trade of foreknew with these 60ns* 
while it is also evident that greater efforts will be made to subdue and hold in wsujsUisn 
to the parent state all these possessions. 

The commercial situation of the country is now about to occupy the attention- of .to 
liiment It is a deep and an interesting subject, and one where, if no petuiaDeBtflti 
can be effected, the agitation of the questions regarding it may do much *m^Hrf T Ana 
it a necessity for doing something, but what that is, will require all the p a tience^ sjfftt 
wisdom, and all the prudence of the British Legislature to examine tnto* orrefslsf 
afresh. Upon the whole, the app ear an c e s in foreign markets, are favourable ibt an'fc 
movement in trade, but we greatly fear that will be more than counterbalanced, ftfetaj 
this year, By the severe distress now pressing upon the agricultural districts. 1 fffcissv 
dieae have to feef the sad distress which has overwhelmed the inantnlicturmg dsssfcfo 
more than twcht months past 

Weekly Price of Stock*, from 5th to 26th AfHl ISiO. 

Bank stock, 

S per cent reduced 

3 per cent consols 

r, «MMMH 

<» *. *»oof+o»» 


34 per cent consols 
4 per cent consols, 
6 per cent navy ann. 
Imperial 3 per cent ann.~ 
India stock, 
— ^— bonds, —— » 


Exchequer bills, 24<L ptday 
Consols for ace. _~™_ 

American 3 per cen 
French 5 per cents. 


88J i 


14 16 pr. 

par. 3pr. 







2164 17 

28 30 pr. 

7 5pr, 




Course of Exchange, May 9— Amsterdam, 12:3. Paris, 25 : 55. Bourdeaux, 25 : 8& 
Frankfort on Maine, 1544. Madrid, 34$, Cadiz, 344. Gibraltar, a Leghorn, 47}* 
Genoa, 444. Malta, 46. Naples, 39}. Palermo, 116 per oz. Lisbon, 5i: RioJaneto 
544. Dublin, 9 per cent Cork, 94. 

Prices of Gold and Silver, per 0^— Portugal gold, in coin, £0:0:0. Ffcdgh geld, 
in baza, £3 : 17 : 104. New doubloons, £3:15:0. New dollars, Oa>0d. Jfimr, to 
ban, stand. 5s. O^d. ■ > 



JUgistcr\--C<mnurtial Report. 

PRICES CURRENT—May 6,—Xomfa*, Map A, 1820. 

B. P. Dry J 
Mid. flood. 

>t ■ cwt* 
toe mid. 

• ♦. 
Lumps, • • 

COrrU, Jamaica . art. 

and fine mid. 

Triage and very onL 
food, and fine ord. 

»<ToliBBaBd) fc. 
MO.P. fall. 


■» # ♦ 

latOsowthej hhd. 

"** fit 


LOGWOOD, Jem. . to* 

» • * 
V » . • • • 

INDIGO, Caracas fine, lb. 

TIMBER, Anier. Pine, foot. 

* Ditto Oak, 
Honduras Mahogany 
St Domingo, ditto 

TAR. American, • bri. 


TALLOW. Una. YeL Cand. 

e Malted, 
.Ran Rhine, 

J ^m^m^^^mm ^^mmm^m^mmwm^ 


MATS, Archangel, . 100. 

Petesaburgh Pints, ewt* 
A SHES, P eters, Peart, . 

Montreal ditto, 

Pot, • 

OIL, Whale, • ton. 

TOBACCO, Virgin, floe, lb. 

Middling, . . . 

COTTONS. »ww«i 

Sea Wand, fine, 
uooa, • 
Middling, . 





K to - # 

57 to 64 

56 10 


60 to 62 




























— i 














m "" 
















31a 6d 





































— . 






















3a 3d 

8f 6d 

2s lid 3a Od 


Si 6d 

44 4d 


4 6 





3 4 

4 6 

S 9 






S S 

S 4 

6 9 



















. 54 














— » 





£7 0£0 

5 10 


6 5 


6 10 



5 15 


6 10 


6 10 



6 10 



7 10 



.7 10 



7 10 

8 8 



11 • 

9 10 



9 10 

Is Id 

la 6d 

9e 6d lls6d 

7a 6d 8fl6d 

SaOdlOi Od 

10a Od 

10a 6d 

1 7 

1 11 

3 S 

8 6 


1 4 

1 8 

1 S 

1 8 


1 4 



1 4 


1 8 

1 9 










— - 













— i 


8 6 

10 6 















•— ^ 








42 10 








— * 











£4 6 


13 10 















421 6d 


















84 (p. M.) 




""■ . 
















1 1 


1 0* 





S 4 

S 6 

2 1 

2 3 


21 2 

m — 


S s 

2 6 

1 6 

1 9 

' _ 


m ^ 


1 10 


1 6 

1 9 



«. . 


1 8 

•1 5 

1 1 

1 5 

1 2 

1 5 

^ ^ 



1 1 


1 0A 


1 1 



1 5 

1 6 

1 9* 

1 4i 

1 4 

1 4* 


- 1 

1 « 

1 5 

1 2 

1 3j 

1 5 

1 4 

Alphabetical List Of Evglish Baitkruptcie8 9 announced betwean tha 83d 
Mareh and 23d April 1820, extncted from the London Gazette] 

Ato^ft, T. &D.«DdT*MdUih, NevKeotproad, Bennett, W. Lem an-rtreet, GoodroanVfieldi, ihoe» 

Bind), J. Manchester, cotton-spinner and mamifac* 

Binsinghan, W. niamilaetarer 

Surrey, ahip-ownen 
Atkinansv M. New e att l a irpon-Type, broker 
Atkhiaeit, J. Daitoo, YorKahire, merchant 
AtUMOBk T. HnddetaSeM, Vorkahlre, merchant 
■■Millar, D. Devanahire-equare, wme-inercbaiit 
Anatha, O. l.angafTt, aoariMOnnder 
Aujtto, J. ManeJMeter, bnck-makex 

Vol. VII. 

Blyth, B. Dyer's buildlngi, Holborn 
Booker. T. Emsworth, Southampton, aLDar 
Byah, J. Patarnoatar-row. bookaeller 

8 F 


Btguter.— Commercial Report. 


Cave, S. Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, jeweller 
Clark, J. T. Tothill-street, Westminster, victualler 
Clarke, D. T. Gerraid-street, Soho, laceman 
Clifford, R. S tow -on-the -Wold, Gloueettenhire, 

Cundey, L Whittington, Derbyshire, miller 
Daniels, H. Ac M. Bury-street, St Mary Axe, mer- 
Dickens, C Macclesfield, Cheshire, victualler 
Dickenson, J. Marsh-side, Lower Edmonton, cat- 
Diaton, T. Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire, corn- 
Dobell. J. Staplehurst, Kent, tailor 
Donaldson. J. W. Slee, & S. Mayston, Friday- 
street, wholesale linen-drapers 
Down, R. Bridgewater, Somersetshire, iron-founder 
Edwards, W. Dartford, Kent, grocer 
Ellison, T. Liverpool, corn-dealer 
England, G. Exeter, butcher 
Farmer, J. Walsall, Staffordshire, plater 
Fitch, C. Braintree, Essex, miller 
Foulkes, E. A J. Darnton, Manchester, uphol- 
Geddes. G. Stromness, Orkney, North Britain, 

Gleaves, S. Warrington, Lancashire, shopkeeper 
Griffin, T. Jun. of Trentham, Staffordshire 
Graham, R. & S. Sharman, Leicester-square 
Gray, M. J. Cannon-street-road, Middlesex, wine- 
Harris, T. St Peter, Herefordshire, grocer 
Harrison, M. Runcorn, Cheshire, shopkeeper 
Hatch, W. P. Shipdham, Norfolk, tanner 
Hay, H. High-row, Kensington Gravel-pits, board- 
Hayley, T. Long-acre, coach-lace-manufacturer 
Hepburn, C. Commercial-road. Middlesex, surgeon 
Hoard, W. H. Limehouse-hole, Middlesex, rope- 
Hopkins, J. H. Liverpool, merchant 
Horner, R. Beckingham, Lincolnshire, Jobber 
Holllday, J. Stockport, Cheshire, victualler 
Hough, W. Manchester, boat-builder 
Houid, S. Laytonstone, Essex, butcher 
Hoult, W. jun. Stourport, Worcestershire, uphol- 
Innocent, G. Nottingham, baker 
Jay, P. Cavendish, Suffolk, wool-stapler 
Kelty, A. Collonade, Pall Mall, jeweller 
Langley, J. M. Newcastle-street, Strand, apothe- 
Lea, J. Heighten, Flintshire, miller 
Levi, J. Wells, Norfolk, cabinet-maker 
Lilley, F. C. Copthall-buildings, Coleman-ttreet, 

Makeen, J. Liverpool, stable-keeper 
Marsh, J. Rotherham, Yorkshire, grocer 
Martin, W. Great Ormand-yard, Queen-square, 

Matthews, W. Birmingham, Warwickshire, uphol- 
Matthewson, A. H. Gateshead, Durham, grocer 
Mawson, G. Bradford, Yorkshire, grocer 
Millhouse, C. Sleaford, Lincolnshire, stationer 
Motley, T. Strand, patent letter-manufacturer 

Owen, O. New Bond-street, Haiiorer-souare, tailor 
Parker. N. Compton-street, Bjrunswick'squsie, 

merchant A 

Parker, K. Halifax, Yorkshire, Unen-dnqMr 
Parkinson, A. J. Duckett, dt S. Ahop, Manchav 

ter, calico-printers 
Peet, J. Carlisle, Cumberland, draper 
Peraval, G. G. Walcot, Somersetshire, 

Peters, W. Brecknock, innkeeper 

Phipps, J. Duke*«treet, Portland-place, tattoo 

Platts, J. Chellaston, Derbyshire, wheelwright 

Plumraer, W. B. Kingston-upon-Hull, ironaoapr 

Pollard, A. Poole, grocer 

Poole, C. Whitecross-street, London, wiUow-ejsjst 

Porter, J. Wrighton, Somersetshire, n uua i — 
Prince, T. Chester, bread-baker 
Raby. E. Wolverhampton, Stafl Udshii c, spsctsflfr 

Roden, W. Bedford-street, Covent-Gardsn, book- 
seller and stationer 
Robinson, G. Middlewich, Chester, innkeeper 
Roan tree, Princes-street, Westminster ,coach-bufl(kr 
Rogerson, J. H ardsha w-wi thin- W indie, LanoMhht, 

Sadd, G. Kenton-ctreet, Bloomsbury, builder 
Salisbury, T. Preston, Lancashire, grocer 
Sandbach, J. Liverpool, merchant 
She ward. H. Bdgrave-place, Pimlico, kosrdiaj- 

Simpson, J. Smith-square, Westminster, core-mP- 

Sloggatt, T. R. Boscastle, Cornwall, draper 
South, J. Kingston-upon-Hull, merchant 
Svmons, F. Falmouth, Cornwall, merchant 
Tanner, B. Burr-street, Lower East-SmitafieH, 

Tebbits, J. late of Birmingham, victualler 
Thomas, G. Breage, Cornwall, shopkeeper 
Thompson, J. Clemenfs-lane, Lotnbard^treet 

Thorpe, W. Epping. Essex, hawker 
Tomfmson, W. Hinckley, Leicestershire, mnkeepff 
Turner, W. & J. North. Mold-green, Kirkheawia, 

Yorkshire, fancy-clothiers _ 4 

Walker, W. Ramsgate, Isle of Thanet, K0*> 

Ward, R. R. Maiden-lane, Battle-bridge, Middl**** 
Warwick, T. Hitchin, Hertfordshire, draper 
Watson, J. Huddersfield, Yorkshire, merchant 
Wheatcroft, S. Sheffield, Yorkshire, grocer 
White, U. Great Driffield. Yorkshire, upholster* 
Wild, J. Liverpool, merchant 
Wilkins, G. Bradford, Wiltshire, victualler 
Wilkinson R. Lindlev, HudderaflekL Yotkabire, 

Wilbee, G. late of El in am, Kent 
Wilkes, J. A. & T. E. Hammond, BirmingbsU* 

glass- toy-makers 
Wilcox, W. King/s Head public-house, Water- 
works-bridge, Himlico, victualler 
Wright, G. C. & J. Graham, Crooked-lane, 

don, upholsterers 
Wood, J. King-street, St James's-square, tailoa* 
Woolfe, J. Birmingham, mercer and draper 

Alphabetical List of Scotch Bankruptcies, announced between the 1st 0&4 
90th April 1820, extracted from the Edinburgh Gazette. 

Burn & Pringie. wood-merchants, Fisherrow 
Caldarwood, John, merchant and grocer, Irvine 
Dawson * Mitchell, distillers, RockviUa, near 

Fyfe, James, joiner and cabinet-maker, Leith 
Guthrie, Robert, merchant, Cupar-Fife 
Household, Charles, cooper, Glasgow 
Livingstone, Arthur, merchant, Kilsyth 
M*Gregor, Peter, timber-merchant, Stirling 
M'Leuana & Campbell, cattle-dealers and drovers. 

In the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright 
Monteath, Robert, weod-merchant, St Ninians 
M'Nair, E. Cochrane, merchant and milliner, 

Peddle, J. mason and builder, residing at Benfleld 

House, Renfrewshire 
Scott, James, millwright, Cupar-Fife. 
TaykVr, Henry, mercnant, Irvine 
TiJawpco, David, merchant-tailor and dothier. 

No 39, Prince's-street, also carrying on the J 
muslin business, under the name of Mrs — — .. 
beth Thomson, his wife, in No 38, Pruts*^ 1 
street, Edinburgh. 

Clark, James, rope and sail maker and ship-b**** 

er, Dunbar ; a final diTidend on 15th May i 

Hutchison, J. jun. cattle-dealer and drover, ff**" 

dington; a dividend after 19th May •_-*.«- 

Laird, J. & Co. merchants, Greenock, and ww sw 

Laird & Co. merchants, Liverpool; a divie*s?»> 

Md May 
Mitchells, R. & H. wood-merchants, Fisherrovr % ' 

dividend on S9th April _ 

M'Kinlay, D. merchant, Greenock ; a divi****" 

16th May __ 

Nimroo, R. grocer, Edinburgh \ a final divid*^ 

an 0th May 

HM-3 • XUgUUr^Gmmtreial Report 

Lmi m, Cm BmA*p, Mag L Lhxrfooi, Moj a. 

KtMnd . EJlo edwutepa 

n«u . . 6« a> « MM i . .... • - 

■MjkMdHM 7* to T^SodlMn. Mto i i)to*i;o 





3to 13 
AMI, Jt— May & g J m £ , 

r 140 Ui. ^uoinfofwu, o/ the Four 
We&i immtdiatdy prtodmg the lfirt April 1820. 


What. I Bull?. I Ofttt. I Peue&Beana. 

U, A.U Od. lit, 29ft. Od. lit, Mi. (Id. list, 20s. Od. 

M, .39*, 6U 2d SGLSd. 2d SM)«. 6d. 1 id 18*. 6d. 

3d,. .36*.0d, I 3d, 24* Od. I 3d 17*. fid, | 3d, 17s. Od. 

Avenge of Wheat, £l : 19 : 7 per boll. 

7'ur tdaij. May 2. 

fcef (1TJ H. per lbi) 0*. Si. to 0*. 7jd. I Quartern Loaf . , 0*. 9d. to 0». lOd. 

uan .... 0b. 7 id. to Oi. fld. PoUtoea (2B lb.) . . It Oil. to 0*. Od. 

Lunt, penjujutta , St. 6d. to 0*. Od. Froii Butter, per lb. It. Sd, to 0ft Od. 

Vai . . . . . Of, 6d. to 0*. Bd. Salt ditto, per (tone . 16s. Od. to Oil Od. 

rat Ok. 6d. to 0*. 7d. Ditto, per lb. . It, Od. to 0ft. Od. 

T *t, per tunc . 9ft. Od. to 10l Od, | Egg*, per dozen . . 0*. 7d. to 0*. Od. 


Wheat. I Biiley. | Oatft. I Pew 

'■-......SOtOd. lit, 27*. Od. lit, flft.0d. ltt : 

*. .37ft. 6d. 2d 21a. Od. id 19s. Od. td 1 

«, .36*. 6d. 3d, 21*. Od. 3d 16*. Od, | 3d 1 

Average of Wheat, £1:17:8; 10-12th> 
*<fe— The boll of wheat, beans, and a 

,..lfi«.6A lit, 18*. 6d.*, od. ad ifit. ed. 

, . ...13*. Od. 1 3d lStOd. 

Average of Wheat, £1:17:8: 10-12ttu. 


"■» Me of the fttmoftplwre, during the month of April, hu been in many reapeeU raj 
■ftftrkthle. The wnttBWtt EempenUuK, on the let, ni 484, and continued, with Tew 
'*" l gnduauT W iacrcue. On the 21H the tbrawMW fWod tt 62, on the. 


Register.— Meteorological Report. 


22d at 64J, and on the 86th at 70, higher than it has been known to rise* at this season, 
Ipr many years. Previous to this unusual elevation of temperature, the wind had blown 
a moderate breeze from the east for several days. On the 25th it shifted to the west, sod 
from that got gradually round to the north-east, from which it blew very strong on the 
afternoon of the 26th, accompanied with a very sudden and extraordinary reduction of 
tem p er atu re. During the succeeding night the thermometer sunk to 34(, . and did not 
rise higher than 464 throughout the following day. Another circumstance deserving at- 
tics, was the extreme dryness of the air after the change of wind and depression of tem- 
perature. On the morning of the 27th, even after the violence of the wind was consider- 
ably moderated, Leslie's hygrometer stood at 41, the temperature being at the same time 
41. By the application of Anderson's formula, it appears that the point of deposraVn, 
or the temperature at which the air would have begun to deposite moisture, was as-low ss 
one degree of Fahrenheit ; and the quantity of moisture in the atmosphere was only 
25-100ths of what was necessary to produce complete saturation— a degree of dryness sel- 
dom experienced in this climate. In consequence of this unusual state of the atmosphere, 
tiie mean point of deposition is 4J° below the mean minimum temperature. The mean 
of the extreme temperatures is a very small fraction lower than the mean of 10 morning 
and evening. The fluctuations of the barometer, excepting about the 25th, are not 
greater than usual The quantity of rain is very small, and fell almost wholly between 
the 4th and 7th. The ground is in consequence very dry ; and as it yields but little 
moisture for evaporation, the atmosphere, since the influx of dry air from the north-east, 
does not contain one-half its average quantity of humidity. 

P. 8.— On looking into our Meteorological Register for April 1817, we find two in- 
stances of still greater dryness than that stated above. On the 1 1th of that month, Leslie's 
hygrometer stood at 43, while the temperature was 38} ; and on the 17th, the hygrome- 
ter was at 50, with a temperature of 41. The former gives the point of deposition stoat 
20° below Zero, and the relative humidity IS— the latter gives the point of deposition 
90° below Zero, and the relative humidity 7, which approaches very near to absolute dry- 
ness. There is indeed a striking resemblance, in many points, between April 1820, and 
the same month o£ 1817. The former is the warmer of the two by about a degree and ft 

Meteorological Table, extracted from the Register kept on the Banks of 
the Toy, four miles east from Perth, Latitude 56" 25', Elevation IBS feet. 

April 1820. 


Mean of greatest daily heat, 

......... cold, . • 

temperature, 10 A. M. 

of daily extremes, . • . 
... 10 A.M. and 10 P.M. 
.... 4 dally Observations, 
ttsmngt of thermometer, • • 
daily ditto, .... 
........ temperature of spring water, . 


Mean of 10 A.M. (temp, of mer. 53) 
............ 10 P*M. (temp, of mer. 53) . 

both, (temp, of mer. 53) . 

Whole range of barometer. 

Mean ditto, during the day, • . 

mm~..... m night, • • 

*m.**..«..«..ot.« la 24 aovrs, . . * 

Rata in Inches, . . . . 

Evaporation in ditto, • 

Mean daily Evaporation, 
-Leslie. Mean, 10 A. M. 

.m....... m . ........ 10 P. M. • a • 

•*.......... both, • • • • 

Anderson. Point of Dep. 10 A.M. 

M.................M....... .......M 10 P.M. . 

«.«»^».». ...•«««•*««... ...... ........ po m, . 

............... Relet. Humid. 10 A.M. 

•>•*••••••»••••••«•••••••••••••••••••••• Xv *• jU* • 

* MM .. MM .. M Ors. mois. in 100 cub* ua air,10 A. 

H w nn» i m » ti Mt«M>i«>wi.»» 10 f. 
OlmwitiHiHtiiiwiinwn w illi iii i u Mwii DOtD, 




. 44.3 













M. .152 
M. .154 




Maximum, . 25th day 

Minimum, . 7th 

Lowest maximum, 7th . • 

Highest minimum, 17th • . 

Highest* 10 A. M. 25th 

Lowest ditto, . 27th • • 

Highest, 10 P.M. 25th 

Lowest ditto . 7th, . • . 

Greatest range in 24 hours, 25th . • 

Least ditto, . 1st . 


Highest, 10 A.M. . 24th 50.650 

Lowest ditto, . 6th 29.055 

Highest, 10 P. M. .23d • 50.650 

Lowest ditto, . 6th • .29.110 

Greatest range in 24 hours, 25th . .765 

Least ditto, . . 9th .035 


Leslie, Highest, 10 A. M. 50th . . 46.0 
.......... Lowest ditto, 5th . . 2.0 

..... Highest, 10 P. M. 25th. • 52.0 

.......... Lowest ditto, 4th . . 3.0 

Anderson. P. of Dep. Highest, 10 A.M. 22d 48.0 

M m. ....•• ...... Lowest ditto, 27th 141 

Highest, 10 P.M. 3d 47.0 

Lowest ditto, 26th 16.0 

Relat. Hum. Highest, 10 A.M. 5th 97.0 

Least ditto, 27th 25.0 

Greatest, 10 P.M. 4th 96.0 

•«. M ..»....... M .f. M ..M.M Least ditto, 26th 454) 

Mois. 100 cub. in.' Greatest, 10 AM. 224 .230 

Least ditto . 27th .045 

Greatest, 10 P.M. 17th J20 

ditto, 26th .077 

••• •»*••••«•••• #!»• ••*••* •••••• 

— »eev— ••»•»«»•♦♦••♦•>•— 

Fair days, 24 j rainy days, 6. Wind wto of meridian, 24; eastof meridian, 6. 

2 AgitUr.— Meteorological Report. m 

lOftOLOtHCAL Table, extracted from the Reguter kept at Edinburgh, m 
the Observatory, CaitOH-hiU. 

vice every day, at nine o'clock, 'ormoou. and four o'clock. ift» 
■a [he 1/1000011, In the On! column, U taken By the Kegirter 

S eoflUi", .JUlachct. 


Uaut. DougLar to be Captain by purch. 
vice MliH, ret. 19 March IBM 

— — Wildman Co be CapL by purch. 

9, 13 April 

3, ^Mar^'of Carmarthen! 

hp. W. I. Rung. 13 March 

Comet Lord T. Cecil, from 10 Dr. I.t. 

by pur. vice Arbuthoot, ffl F. 30 do. 
C Muff/rave, Comet by purch. vice 

Carnifnen, ret- 13 April 

Lint. Loweon. from hp. 1 Una, K.G.L. 

_ _ Comer, vice Buckley, prom. 3CTMar- 

ftlfcUtutCnL Sir O. Scovcft, K.CB. from 

hp. SuuTC. of Car. Lleul. CoL Com. 

Lieut. Campbell,' Captain, vice l»ian, 
amifn Thermae, Lieutenant, vfea Clyoo 
rtctet, from 3 

vice Tottenham, 

Sere. JB-aJ-Richardim, Adj. and kiaWu. 

Got Cadet C.'waod, from MIL ColL 
. KnckB, ™ H«et. IF. 6 do. 

Capt, RentDul. from hp. SSF. Capt. vice 
Srnrawwaya.9Vet.Bai. 13 do. 

- . FMuhanron, Major by purch, 

Baton Shaw, Adj. and LleuL vice Shaw, 
JV*. Bat. 13 April 

A. Shaw, Enalan do. 

Bt ktakw Meeaud, from hp. 33 F. Cipt, 
Treamnatan, • Vet. Bn. IB March 

bean Goroou, Lieut, vice Lowe, 6 Vet, 
ME II Anil 

A A. Buff, Kniign, t 

Lieut. Thompeon, from hp. Lieut 
Croker, from hp. Lieut. do. 

* ice Neaneld, cane. II April 

W. Browne, Enugu by purch. vice san- 

dara, ilium, 9 March 

Kiuifn Pack, Lieut, vim D'Arcov, I VeL 

Kami, LleuL ilea William,, I fit. 

Bat. Uuo. 
OXJornjan, (rem bn. Roll'i Ray. 

Enilgn Fortjea, 
B. U Price. En 
Gsalan Dwyet, 

V. S. Young, anahm 
emajo Worth, Lint, by p 

n. juiiuui rauisr, from hp, W. I. Rang. 

B ^'^ WB » - n3iiVS; 

■ Dawion, UauL TlntBWd, dead 

Olpherfa, UmU^vkw Halle*, dead' 

H. Delv, Xmign 90 Much 

W. M'VW.oo. IJfconi 


RegUUr.—AppowtwumU, Promotions, 6fc. 


Brevet CoL Maclean, Colooel 

f 4 Fell. 18W 

Lieut. CoL Boger, from h. p. Lieut. Col. 
Capt Alms, do. Captain 

let Lieut Jones, Sd Captain 
■ Witts, do. 

— — — Poole, from h. p. lit Lieut. 

Williams, do. do. 
Sd Lieut. Luke, do. 


Hey wood, from h. p. M do. 
Brewer, do. do. 


Capt Bowers, from S3 F. with Brevet Mat Smith, 

fa. p. Sicilian Rest. 
— — Close, from 5 Dr. Gds. with Capt Enderby, 

St Dr. 
— - Webb, from 1 Dr. with Capt Wm Cox, 

Rifle Brigade 
■ Pitta, from 43 F. rec diff with CapL Jack- 

I, ho. 94 F. 

Lieut Colonel Shearman, S6 F. 
Captain Mayne, 7 Dr. 

Heyuger, 7 Dr. 

Cornet Carruthere, 14 Dr. 
EnaUjn Turner, 66 F. 

— Van Rynewekl, 7S F. * 


Lieut General Elliot late of Royal Marines 
Major General Kemmb, lata of 40 F. Chelteahaaa 

S April 18SO 

J. Mudge, R. Art. London 17 do. 

Lieut CoL Shearman, *6 F. Gibraltar 8 March 
Major Tyler, R. Art Gibraltar 4 do. 

— Courtenay, hp. Nova Scotia Fenc Boulogne 

S8 Jao. 
Capt Duport, R. Art Demecary S5 Dee. 1813 
MandeviMe, 58 F. Berbampore, Bengal 

— Tyeth, hp. 8 F. 
Ennb, Royal Marines 

18 April 1B30 
S8 Dee. 1819 

hp. 9« ¥. ■ b*uu>, noyw unnci zo use 

FUb Gerald, from S W. I. R. with Captain Ueat - Nath Cavenagh, hp. R. Art Trinidad 

. Stepney, hp. 4 W. I. R. 

— Clyne, from 1 F. with Capt Hulme, hp. 

— Whalley, from S3 F. rec dlA with Captain 

— Rom, hp. 14 F> 

— Minchin, from 38 F. rec dlft with Captain 
Piper, hp. 100 F. 

■ Johnstone, from 71 F. with Capt Barnard, 
hup. Rifle Brigade 

— — Crotbie, from tl F. with Capt Moray, hp. 

7 Dr. 
Lieut Peers, from 2 Dr. G. with Lieut Caldwell, 

— Atkin, from 81 F. with Lieut Smith, hp. 

CreenrelL from 88 F. with Lieut Walpole, 

hp.3F.G. ^ 

— Stephens, from 1 F. with Lt Ebhart, hp. 
Cornet Martin, from 3 Dr. G. with Cornet Grant 


■ ■ Burke, from S Dr. rec diff. with Cornet 
Hooart, hp. 11 Dr. 

— — — Roaa, from 3 Dr. G. with Cornet Cunie, 

hp. S3 Dr. 
aMgn Gibbi , from 91 F. with 2d Lieut Sprat*, 

hp, 3 Ceylon Regt 


— Soupex, hp. York Chasseurs, Trinidad 


Hield, SW.I.R* Isle de Less, Africa 

2 Jan. 1830 
■ Granger, 1 R. Yet Bat 

Halea, S W. I. R. Sierra Leone IS Jan. 

Grant, hp. 100 F. 14 Den. 181* 

Thiede, hp. Brunt. Inf. 3 Dec 1818 

— Roberta, bte 5 R. Vet Bat Alderney 

30 Dee. 1819 
Cornet Over, hp. Wag. Tr. Lond. Si March 1890 
Quar. Meat Perry, hp. New Romney Fenc 

51 Oct 1819 
— — Page, hp. Somenet Fenc Exeter 


Surg. Redmond, 54 F. Cape of Good Hope S4 Jan. 
Cunie. hp. 17 F. SS do. 

CommUwrtat Department. 
Dep. Assist Com. Gen. Hume, Dememry 96 Jan. 

Medical Department. 
Staff Aaust Surg. Ludlow, Jamaiea Feb. 

Heap. Aauat R. Norris, hp. Chebea April 



Savf. 5, 18l9.—At QuOon, the lady of Captain 
BhtninatnTMi, a daughter. 
9. At Bombay, the lady of Capt Keith, Sub- 
Commiatery-general, a daughter. 

Oct. S. At Bombay, the lady of Wflttam Erskine, 
Bag. a daughter. 
& At Madias, the lady of John Shaw, Esq. re- 
of the Supreme Court of Judicature, a eon. 
Dee. 17. At the Island of Ithaca, Mrs Knight, 

— At Banff, Mrs Williamson, a son. 
.7* Mrs Gordon, Herlot-row, Kdhiliuiwhj a 

9. At Raiding, Berks, Mis Boyd of Broadmes- 
dows, a daughter. 

1 1. At Boulogne sur Mer, the lady of Captain 
Maedougall, a son. 

14. AVArbuthnot-houac Lady Arbuthnot, a 

Cork, the Hon. 

75th regiment a son., 18S0. At Douglas,! 
Mrs Henry Mutiny, a son. 

March 8. At Riga, the lady of Alexander Henry 

13. At UdolL the lady of Mr Mackintosh, late of 
the royal artillery, a daughter. 
SI. At KUnvoek Castle, Mrs Rose of Kibavock, 

— Mrs AukL ArgyD-aquare, Edinburgh, a stilt 
born son. 

— Mrs Kennedy, NormumbeirUndatreet, Edin- 

burgh, a daughter.' 

— At herhouae, 8S, ThisOe-atreet, Edinburgh, 
Mrs Smart, a daughter. 
18. The lady of John C. Scott, of Sinton, Eaq. a 

S6. At ftampeteed-house. the Countess of Hunt* 
Infldoauaaon, her .tenth child. 

S9. TheDuchectofSanCarloa. ason. 

.31. At Orangehill, the lady of Jamas Christie, 
Eaq. a ton. 

April S. In Harlaford Row, London, the lady of 
J. Cowan, Esq. a daughter. 

3. At EdinburghTOe lady of John L. Campbell, 
Esq. of Achalader, a son. 

— At St Ann's, Alderney, the lady of John 
Buehan SydserC Esq. of Ruchlaw, a daughter. 
_. 6. At MoacreilBVbouee, Lady Monerciflb, n 
daughter. ' 

— , At Glentyan-bouse, Renfrewshire, the lady of 
WUUam Stirling, EaqTr daughter. 


— In Great Klngatreet, the lady of Captain A. 
R. Kerr, R. N. C. B. a eon. 

— Lady Jane Peel, a aon. 

18. Mrs Bridges, Duke-street, Edinburgh, a 

50. Mrs Alexander Wood, Charlotte-equate, 
Edinburgh, a daughter. 

51. Mrs .Paul, 65, York-place, Edinburgh, a 

Si At Edinburgh, the lady of Alexander Hun- 
ter, Eaq. W. S. a son. 

tatdg. in Portugal, the lady of Major Mackin- 
tosh, Uth Portuguese cavalry, a aon. 

In Montagchequare, London, the lady of J. R, G. 
Graham, Esq.. If. P. a son. 

At London, the lad j of Aleicaikdcr R.C.DaAa« 
Esq. a son. . 



Register.— Marriage* and Deaths. 


8tpt. 8, 1819. At Nagpoor, James Gordon, Em. 
tuifsou to the Residency, «, to Maria Louisa, only 
ajsfhter of Mr Ocom Ffaser. 

J«a. 10, 18 to. At TJemarara, Captain Macduff 
Hat Boog, to-Miss Eliaa Thornton, daughter of 
— Thornton, Esq. Cumingsburg. 

March 1. At Anstruther, Mr S. Williamson, 

To, R. N. to Mrs Mary Robb. 
At Lochdde, the Rev. Robert Smith, mini- 
acfaf Lochwtanoeh, to Margery, eldest daughter 
flf the bur William Barr, Esq. of LoehsideV^ 

fl. At Campbeltown, at the house of Colonel 
Mnttster of Barr, by the Rev. Dr Robertson, 
tares Macalister. Esq. at Balinakill, to Miss 
" Em Macafister, eldest daughter of CoL 
Ma r a Hater , some time governor of Prince 

99. At Edmbunfa, by the Rer. Rich. Shstmon. 
John Gibson Loekhart, Eaq. advocate, to Sophia 
Charlotte, eldest daughter of Sir Walter Scott of 
Abbotsford, Bart. 

LtUdu* at Cleasby, in Yorkshire, Richard Bmka, 
rJsq. of liull, to Isabella, youngest daughter of the 
late George Gordon, of Mtddleton Tyas. The bride 

tt. Valentine H. Mairis. Esq. of the 78th High- 
ami rariment, to Elisabeth, second daughter ofT. 
Eteards, Eaq. of Bishop's Lavington. 
Jl» At Gallanton, James Hutchison. Esq. East 
Wsams, to Agnes Ann, fourth daughter of Mr 
Wdham Roper. 

- WWSma Dixon, jun. Esq. of Goranhill, to 
rn sab ith, esoest daughter of the late John Strang, 

^_ At Edinburgh. Mr Robert Ritchie, merchant 
■ Umtourgh, to Miss Marion Seton, only surviv- 
al dBtjfhter at the late Mr James Seton of Drum- 

I, surgeon in Kennoway. 
AprU 3. At Dumfries. Mr Robert Milligan, 
«ntar, to Margaret, daughter of the late Mr Hugh 
Ronisoa, writer, Kirkcudbright 

~- At Edinburgh, Charles Bayley, Esq. surgeon, 
J» Miss Christian, daughter of the late Charles 
wKaasaa, Eaq. writer, Edinburgh. 

4. At Bloehairn, near Glasgow, Roderick Reace, 
*^a. writer, Inrerness, to Ann, fourth daughter 
y « • late Rev. Angus Bethune, minister or Al- 

_ 6. At St Pancraa, Yorkshire, Henry Francis 
of the Honourable East India Cotn- 

•■* to EUsa Paton Bruce, daughter of 

Lieut-Gen. Robert Bruce, of Elslree, in 
— sty of Herts. 

The Rrr. Edward Banket, son of H. Banket, 

. M.P. to the Hon. Frances Jane Scott, daugh- 

of the Lord Chancellor. ^^ 

At Miss Hope's, No 98, George-street, by the 

Mr Walker, John Scott, Esq. of Gala, to 

Magdalene Hope, sister to Sir John Hope of 


8. At Aberdeen, Colin Allan, M. D. surgeon of 
late 7th West India regiment, to Jane Gibbon, 
y daughter of the late Peter John Knox, M. D. 
nbrmcrly of Santa Crux. 

10. At Edinburgh, James Dallas, Esq. merchant, 
Marion, third daughter of Robert Johnston, 

merch ant, Edinburgh. 
13. At Walcot Church. Bath, Arnold Thompson, 
_,. 81st regiment of foot, to Anna Maria Bun- 
w»iry, fourth daughter of the late Captain Abm. 
ABunbury, 6td regiment of foot. 

17. At the house of Lord Robert Ker, the Right 
linn. Lard John Campbell, to Miss Glasselof Long- 

— At Prov am ide, John Gabriel Buchanan, Eaq. 
r, Glasgow, to Catherine, second daughter of 
sCarseweU, Esq. 

18. At Gartincaber, John Burn, Eaq. advocate, 
to Anne Mania, only child of the late William Mur- 
doch, Eaq. of Gartincaber* 

— AtCallander, Captain Ranald Macdonald, of 
the 19th regiment of foot, to Flora, daughter of 
Alex. Macuonald, Esq. of Dalelia. 

— At Wardour Castle, Lieut-Colonel G. Mac- 
doaneii, C B. late J. F. officer in Canada, to the 
Hon. Laura Arundel], second daughter of the late, 
and sister of the present Lord ArundeU. 

— WUBam Wemyss. Eaq. Deputy Commissary- 
sneral, to Mrs Davidson, widow of the late Major 
Davidson, 4 Jd regiment 

19. At Edinburgh, Alexander Steele, Esq. Morn- 
iafside, to Jane, youngest daughter of the late Mr 
Hugh Grieve, Daibouslt. 

— At Aberdour. Mr John Morison, merchant, 
Edinburgh, to Elisabeth, second daughter of the 
lets Capt John Thomson, Aberdour. 

ft. At Mouswald Mams, Annandale, James 
He**, Esq. author of " The Queen's Wake," ate. 
* Miss Margaret Philips, third daughter of Mr 
fnu Pmbps. farmer there. 

is turned of 53 years of age ; and the bridegroom . 
(who has only been six months a widower,) Is up- 
wards of 76. 

At Rome, the Hon. William Dawson, to Patience, 
youngest daughter of Lieut-General Scott, and 
grand-daughter of the late Sir Edward ""-TknHy 

In Portman Square, London, the Hon. R. W. 
Penn Curaon. to lady G. Harriet BrudenelL second 
daughter of the Earl of Cardigan. 

At Braughen, Hertfordshire, the Right Hon. 
Lord Kirkcudbright, to Miss Cantes. 


Aw. 13, 1819. In the camp near Malhgaam, In 
the East Indies, where he held the situation of 
commissary, Lieut. Thomas Baird, of the 5th re- 
giment native infantry, on the Bombay establish- 
ment, eldest son of Thomas Walker Baird, Eaq, 
advocate, in the x4th year of his age. 

Oct. 9. At Chinsura, in the East Indies, George 
Johnston, Esq. late coach-maker in Calcutta, third 
son of the late Mr James Johnston, farmer fa 

ft. At Bombay, Hector Macdonald Buchanan* 
younger of Drumakiln, cornet in the Madias ov 

Nov. 13. At Calcutta, of a fever, Mr James Hay, 
surgeon, from Canon, Stirlingshire, aged SI. 

17> At Demerara, Henry, aged XI, and at Kirk-' 
aldy, on the S9th March, 18*0, Andrew, aged 30. 
both sons of Mr Michael Bereridge, Comptroller of 
the Customs, Kirkcaldy. 

Drr.25. At Buenos Ay res, Lieut J. Rdd, R.W. 
eldest son of the deceased Mr James Reid, ship. 
master in Fraserburgh, much regretted. 

Jam. 30, 18X0. In the Island of Grenada, Mr 
Charles C. Brown, youngest son of Mr John Oe- 
burn Brown, Esq. 

31. At Port Royal, Jamaica, of two days* illness, 
Mr Robert Schanks, midshipman, his Majesty 1 * 
ship Iphigenia, Toungeat son of Mr John Schanks, 

Feb. *. At Gibraltar, Mr George Steuart, Ad- 
miralty midshipman, R.N. youngest son of the lata 
Andrew Steuart, Esq. of Auchlunkart 

8. At Demerara, Mr Thomas Jones Cumine. 
fourth son of Archibald Cumine of Auchry, Esq. 
county of Aberdeen. 

11. At Skibo. Sumerlandshire, in her 94th year 
Mrs Macdonald, relict of John Macdonald. Esq. 
Breakish. ^ 

15. At St Petenburgh, Mr Brown, a King's Mes- 
senger. He had been sent out with despatches to 
the Russian Government, announcing the death of 
our late King, and the accession of his present Ma- 

23. At Savil, in the island of Sanday, Orkney, 
Mrs Helen Douglas. " 

15. At No 1, Prince'Mtreet, Miss Beatrix Thom- 
son, aged ff. 

28. In Mrs Miller's house, No 10, AbbeyhJII, 
Edinburgh, Mis* Janet Macdonald. 

March I. At Palermo, James, fourth son of tha \ 
late David Peterson, Esq. banker in Edinburgh. 

4. At Gibraltar, after a long illness, Major Chat, 
Taylor, of the royal artillery. 

5. At Rosemarkie, Charles Matheson, Esq. 

— The Countess of Fauconberg. 

11. At Peterhead, Mrs Gordon, wife of Alex. 
Gordon, Esq. of InvernettJe. 

— At Salutation, near Darlington, in his 105th 
year, Mr Benjamin Garnet He never experienced 
one day's illness, and walked about till a few hours 
before his death, and had the use of all his facultka 
to the last 

15. At Elsmore. after a short illness, Mr Mul- 
lens, of the firm of Mullens and Knox, 

14. At Knightsbridge, aged 84, Dr Michael Un- 
derwood, many years physician to the British 
Lying-in-Hospital, and the accoucheur who was en> 
gagcu at the birth of her late Royal Highness tha 
Princess Charlotte. 

15. At St Petenburgh, Louis Duncan Cassa* 
major, Esq. secretary to the British embassy at tha. 
court of Russia. 

Rtfisttr.— Deaths. 

IT. AtEi>eomWel*MrWUhwmHrtcIiener. 

19. At Carmng, Ayrshire, Archibald Alexander, 
Era. of Boydstao. 

SO. At Kingston, Surrey, LieuL*Gen. Gabriel 
Johnston, of flie Hon. East India Company's Mr* 

— At Mi boose, in 
tSNqun, London, Gilbert Hall, Esq. 
•SI. At his house, an Lower Brook-4 

don, in the 9Sd Tear of his age, Viscount Curaon. 

. — At Dollar, m the Slat year of taU age, and 57th 
of his incumbency, Mr John M'Arbrea, pamhiai 

— At Ettrickbank, near Selkirk, William Scott, 
Esq. of EttrJckbank, lata of the Island of Jamaica. 

— At Aidoch. Cantata Charles Moray, jiiia-sst 
a of the kteCharki Moray Sttrhng , of Abercsir- 

*%. At PertlKGaot.Oolhi Campbell of (ha West 
Perthshire local militia. 

14. Agnes ReM, spouse of Mr John Wright, 
Hermitage Place, Stoekbrldge. 

— TTpeel, Esq. of FaselyTbrother to Sir R. Peel, 

— At H o w aid-p laos , Charlotte A 
daughter of Captain Thomas Hamilton. 

3. At Leven, Mrs Mary Morris, wife 
Hatcheson, Esq. surgeon, R. N. 

— At her brother's house, 
trice Bairnsfather, daughter of the late Mr 
father, Hexperden. 

4. At his mother's house, Salisbary<streaj4 
burgh ^ Mr J. N. Anderson, much and justly 

^-At Kirfcaldv, Mrs Wemyes, widow at the 
Dr Alexander Wemysa, nhyskriafi in Ktrknldy. 

5. At the manse of Crall, Mxs Catherine ~ 
son, wife of the Rev. Andrew Bell, minister c 

— At Edinburgh, Is her 73d year, Mrs _ 
Miller, relict of Mr John Milne, formerly 
of Stonehaven. 

6. At Campbeltown, Alex. Anld, Ken. osf 
side, and lateof Demerara. 

8. At his apartments in Hampton-ooart 
Colonel Thomas, master of the Robes, and 
of the Bed-chamber to his Majesty, 


— At her house, in JametVaquare, Mrs Jane 
kL relict of Mr Alexander Ferguson, writer 
nburgh, and only surviving daughter of the 

late Edward Lcgrand, Esq. of Bonnington. 

25. At Cadogan Terrace, near London, In her 
Sflth year, Mrs Moore, widow of Dr Moore. 

— At InnergeUie, Jamas Lumsdaine, Eaq. of 

— At his house, to Fotth- str eet, John Thomson, 
Esq. t n *r w ti M T > , Edinburgh. 

ifc. At Woolwich. Francis Purves, Esq. son of 
the late Sir Alexander Purves of Purves, Bart. 

— At Edinburgh, James Dickson, Em. Depute- 
ekrk of the High Court of Admiralty. 

— In the SAth year of her age, at Gifibrd-park, 
Edinburgh, Margaret Mein, wife of James Imrey, 
builder, and in a few hours after, her infant son* 
Both mother and child were laid in one grave. 

S8. At Seafkld Baths, Joseph Thomson, Esq. 
Jedburgh, late of the island of Jamaica. 

— Alexander Graham, Esq. of Limekilns; 

— At Dunbar, Mrs Margaret Gilloch, spouse of 
Mr John Rirkwood, upholsterer there. 

— At Mr Simrfs, North Lehh, Joseph Stoney, 
Esq. lateof Sumehenge, Jamaka. 

x9. At Peebles, John Murray Robertson, Esq. 
Commissary and Sheriffclerk of Peebles. 

— At hie house, in Gepigetawuere, Edmburgh, 
Robert Little Gttmour, Esq. wTs. " 

— At Ormiston, Miss Jane Johnstone. 

— At her house, in Cas tle s tree t, Edinburgh, Mrs 
Skene, sen. of Rubislaw. 

30. At Edinburgh, Richard Drake, youngest son 
of the late Admiral Deans of Huntington. 

31. At Colinton, William Forbes Hunter, son 
of Robert Hunter, A. M. parochial i*nirfmai1fr 

— At Peterhead, Thomas Arbuthnot, 
chant and bank-agent there. 

— At Juniper-bank, Mr John Thorborn, 

— At Peebles, Arundel Spens, your 
Colonel Spens, of the Hon. East India 

— At East Linton, Andrew Brand, Esq. late of 
the island of Nevis. 

— At Upper Grosvenor-etreet, London, Patrick 
Crauford Bruce, Esq. of Glenely. 

. — Mrs Walker, wife of Mr Andrew Walker, 

— At Hempstead heath, in the prime of life, the 
Right Hon. Frances, Countess of Huntingdon, her 
Ladyship having lain in the Sunday preceding of 
her tenth childL * 

April 1. At the house of William Wilberfbree, 
Esq. M.P. Kensington Gore, the very Rev. Isaac 
Milner, D. D. F. R. S. Dean of Carlisle, President 
of Queen's College, Cambridge, and Lucasjan Pro- 
fessor of Mathematics in that University. 

— At 72, West Newington, Mr Robert Ponton. 

— At Salisbury Green, lady Dickson of Preston- 

— At Anstruther Easter, David Henderson, Esq. 
late commander of the Prince of Wales Excise 
yacht, aged 77. near 50 years of which were spent 
in that service. 

3. At Brampton, in the 49d year of his age, Dr 

— At Dumfries, Miss Agnes Kennedy, aweoaat 
daughter of the late Francis Kennedy ox Dmuue, 

9. At Sokgkth, Mb Susanna Robe, epouaw o 
James Tait, Esq. of Solaghth, and eldest dnajgditea 
of the late John Robe, Esq. of Diuoter. 

10. At Killihasie, Mtesltevart, eldeat 
Of the late Robert Stewart Fleming. I 

11. At DysarL after a few hours 
James Fraser, schoolmaster. 

— At his house, in Howe-street, John 
Esq. late merchant in Edinburgh. 

13. At St Andrew's, Mrs Anson Tullkleph, «» 
last surviving daughter of the late Principal TuHi- 
deph, of the United College, and relict of the Row. 
Mr Thomson, minister ainingoMnim, In her 8£fh 

— At his house, JamesVpaos, LeHh Links, Mr 
William Scott, late brewer, Leith, in hie 63d year. 

14. At Hennltage-place, Mrs M'Arthur otTlittlo 

— In Oxford-street, London, to her 74th 
the Dowager Lady Burgoyne. 

— Mrs Catherine Wight, Lawnmar 

— At her house, Gayfleid-equare, 

aged 98, Mrs Marion Carirae, relict of Mr J. . 

Porteous, late soap-manufacturer, Ednabiixgh. 

15. At his house, St James't-square, TrtmtwiiiiTi 
James Robertson, Esq. W.S. 

16. At Edinburgh, John, eldeat son o/ 
Irvine of Inveramsay, Esq. W.S. 

— In CondulUstreet, Hanover-equaro, 

William Macnamara. Esq. late captain in the 
India Company? 


17. .In Upper' Norton-street, in bis 87th 
Claud RuflseD, Esq. 

18. At the PavUIon, Brighton, of a const 
Mr Charles Maxwell, one of the junior 
the presence to his Majesty. 

S8 . We announce with regret the death of 
William Davies, Esq. of the firm of CadeJl 4s Tin- 
vies, booksellers in the Strand, London. Tbia 
melancholy event took place on Friday afternoon. 
Mr Davies had been for some time in a dfrliarng; 
state of health, but appeared better than usual in 
the morning of Friday. He was a man of poAshed 
manners, liberal principles, and unsullied purJty in 
all bis dealings. Esteemed in lif e by all who km 

disposition and manners. 
— At Cheltenham, major-Gen. Kemmis 

him, he is lamented in death by a numerous 
of friends. 

Lai eiy— The Right Hon. the Earl of 
His lordship is succeeded in his titles and estates by 
his only son, Lord Laseeltes, Lord Lieutenant or 
the West Riding of Yorkshire. His lordship 
In the 83d year of his age. 

At Arcucu, in France, the residence of the 

Bcrtholet, Mr Blagden, Secretary of the Roynl So- 
ciety of London. 

At Liverpool, after a tedious illness. John 
with, Esq. late of Halifax, Nova Scotia, 

Oliver dc Boyd, Printers, Edinburgh. 




JUNE 1820. 

Vol. VII. 


Hm GcnMnicc. No V. — The Faus- 

Has Hnpsaics. Noll. 

Saw for the Morning of the Day 

of St John the Baptist..,. 239 

The Death of Don AlonioofAguilar 260 
tk Ayrshire Legatees, or the Corres- 
psadence of the Pringle Family 262 

J Bt 3UED% CTC *m*t* v m****mmr »****»**,tt .■».».. ******£ I T& 

teats*. Afar, oh, Ladye fair, afar 273 

B&fieal Sketches. 

•Ho »• Mij a ri »i i< n «... **************** ****** c T4> 
Noll. The Casting Forth of Jonah 275 
No III. The Vision of Zechariah~276 
BwaVlMis No VI — Mark Macra- 
lb, the Cameronian. The Witch of 




latSncO UnraVelled. Written the 6th 

IflV AOw^l *—»«»>*<>«>—»«>» «»«»**»>«« +m mm>m>mmi0w mm mm** ID* 
*■» avamMa? Oa» Aliliw i y^ w ^ wo ^ ^ i M * j #»# > # »< »» » CyX 

Hs» Cantabrigienses. No V — Trans- 

^swos oi norace ..<!...«<<..■.» «»<.<»»»»< — «»*» i Ry<c 

or Sketches of Pugilism ; by 

Oat of the Fancy. No VII 

*«ir# of Peter Corcoran 



Notices of the Acted Drama in London. 

Covert Garden Theatre «...—. ~307 

Drury I ranfr l neatk" c <».. *» ********** *t*.*iii) 
English Opera House, Strand—.,... ib. 
Anster 8 * oems *************************** ***r******ni s 
Extracts from Mr Wastle's Diary. No II. 
uon j nan, o i »c».<.«—»»— <,«.«. — «.—...,.■ ja § 
Mitchell's Aristophanes **************** ib. 

The old King's Birth-Day,.,... ,..318 

x ne viuarman **********>****'********»********* id* 
irir ocouiar, cec.*.*.....**— »— ——.»«» j ny 

Edinburgh Review, No LXVI.~_ ib. 

jKttncK cHiepoerQ « «> «w< »« >w,i »w «»» » w i 
Rev. Hamilton Paul.... - *.«.322 

Chevy Chace; Fitte the Second. Idem 

Latine redditom..-..--....... 328 


ivi I uLLlutiW \y t& ******* * **** **************32SAj 

Works PREPARiNGforPuBLiCATioir 332 
Monthly List of New Publica- 

flOifa************ ... »<*««■■« »»«■ iw m»>ww»«wiw i w03J 


(soromerciaj Kcport *******************************}&$ 

Meteorological Rep ort . -........- 338 

Promotions and Appointments ~ -.. ..340 

Births, Marriages, and Deaths—,..-.,- -342 



To whom Communication* (pott paid) may be addressed. 


[Oliver & Boyd, Printers, Edinburgh*] 



No XXXIX. JUNE 1820. Vol, VIL 


Tkc Faustui of Goethe. 9 

The Drama, of which we are about to while he attains the object of every 

give some account, defies the critic new desire. Even while he is re*- 

more than any work we have ever joicing in his new knowledge— 

met, and yet, few things that we have even while he endeavours to justify 

read have produced on us an impres- to himself his apostacv from Heaven 

sioa more immediate or more likely to —he is felt to be the slave of a mead 

be permanent. The mysterious rela- degraded being, whom he despise*' 

tion between our world and that of -*of a heartless cunning and deriding 

spirits has afforded in all ages a foun- deviL 

datum for works of the highest poetU To express our feeling of some of 
eal interest; no other works of fiction, the peculiar merits of this drama,, 
indeed, have a firmer basis of reality Would be in some degree to invite' 
in the depths of the human mind, from our readers the charge of pre- 
They bring back to it its obscure sumption against our translation, 
longings — they give a form to its Though we admit the objection, yet it 
most inward hopes and apprehensions is scarce possible to avoid saying a few 
—to the thoughts, which we scarcely Words on the subject. Goethe seems 
dare to shape into words — and they to us to have conveyed the most lofty 
connect the terrors and eagerness of conceptions of the nature of man, and 
believing childhood with the wildest those beings with whom we are con* 
and most daring speculations into, nected for good or evil, in language 
which we can venture, concerning our rich yet simple— dignified yet Amil!"* 
nature and our destiny. — and in parts of the work, we almost 
The subject of the drama before us believe, while we are listening, in the 
is the old story of Faustus. Con- magical effects attributed to sound* 
vinced of the vanity of study— of the Nothing that we know in our lan- 
impossibility of attaining precise guage can give any idea of the charm 
knowledge on any subject of human we allude to, but a few of the most 
inquiry — he applies himself to magic inspired passages of Coleridge ; often, 
— commands the presence of different while engaged in our present task, 
orders of spin to— sells his soul to the have we thought of Kubla Khan and 
deril— abandons himself to the indul- Christabel, and felt an idle regret 
gence of his passions— and remains that we could not hove the enjoyment 
still distracted by the same restless- of reading the passages which we most 
new of mind that first led him to admired m the German tragedy, sha- 
studies— -still dissatisfied dowed out in the rich mystical num« 

* We think It proper to mention, that the translation! in this number of the Hone 
Germanics are not ewnted by Mr Gillies, bat by another friend, whose contributions in 
fen* and in proas, serious and comic, hate already very frequently honoured our pagss. 

Vou VII. S G 

836 Tht Faugiui of Qocthe. [J 

ben of our own great poet, which Deputed is, alas 1 the friendly throng, 
often affect the heart and ear like % ^Anddi^bfceAoiiigiiariuiltttfqplied; 

gpeJL* If winiiffll lite thkitringerworid among, 

The volume open, with tome be«i. Fott™^ «atte^ them at 4i*aae» 

tiffal and very affiscting stanm. Few To n^a unknoro my gridb mnrt I hmMt, 

mep, even in early-bra, bate not to wtavcrratateBtoiMirMifce'^^ 

think of k 4i*»Pp»inted W aad to ^j^, , kllgllirW M < afc«W 

Ubeiit die removal of the then* ^JLTfc to^TtC53L 

whom they were most anxious to j^ r 

please. Who is there who has not, in Mytongk«wellingnow, DowknrlyMeaBiig, 

the ooorae of his toils, heen interrupt- Like jEoTi hup. by varying " 

Sand paused to ask himself, " for . fanned, 

dt am 1 labouring now ?" Tear* follow tears, my s u sY lHS s a nreamg, 

« Where an the smite we longed O gate. Aim sflem shudden shew » heart un- 

The pledge of kbomiioim vain?" _ _-""!"} , - r<L1 _ fc _ - 

f r ... ~, . • ^_ — Duu forms of daily line heron me flee* 

The following are Goethe's intro- ^ PA B T—tlie Pi i T .d^ ieemi ^ 

ductory stanzas : to me I 

^^J^S^^S'iLmB^ ™» « *■» Preludes to the main 

Aser^sboneto cheer me mourners ^ nA . ^^ a drogue between the 

And inayl hope that ye will linger hen ? poet and the s^manager, in which 

Wntmy heart leap as in the days gone by? some of the difficulties of a writer ror 

Y* {hMog oefbrenty view, divinely dear, the theatre axe pointed out in a Italy 

iiiesun4>e*iti*<rtnrjueitogadoudysky! and pleasing manner ; and the other, 

Beneath your Hgotmnfrglance my spirit entitled, " Prologue in Hc*ten, w 

M . H™*^ ^_* m ^ . which is rounded on the passage in 

M^ubf B ^hiog--T^thtodioyrHuiBs! ^ whefe g^ ^ tott ^a ffl 

\»TiattormirtKbeAUtifiil of hmppyyeawf coming with the 9ott8 of God to pre- 

.J^ 1 ^ - "^.^*^" 1 **** *«* himself before the Lord. This 

h ^^^!^^^£lSSL stains a great deal that is written m 

IhaartejfOMeof lorn and MsndsWpt a light aim irreyerent tone, and £»- 

BenewedeacTaorrow and each joy appear* «»«es, w« tiu^, Very Httte in^rtt of 

that marked life's changing labyrinthine ^L™"; * .- — 

waste; Thephty Itself opens Hke ™ Kar- 

Tli6tViendsretmntwhoJ^teyonmavmy 9 lowe's Tragicall Hlsttrfe of the Life 

(fasten* alas I of half fin's little day ! and Death of Doctor Pausfus " with 

rJuran t (hey cfcnnot hear my dosing song, •» exhibition of Faustus in his study, 

those hearts, for whom my earnest lays complaining of the vanity of the mf- 

" tried ; ferent sciences. In the play before us 


*~ » * *■ 

*^ instance: 

•<*-^inne*ajmsmeinaiditoetook, . •• A damsel with a* dulcimer 

Ah wttt-frjaay ! In a vision once I saw : 

AfldwimlswTOlnaadd^Mulsok It was an Abyssinian maid, 

These wot* dm say : And on her mridmer she played* 

U lbs touch of this bosom then worketh a flinging of Mount Abora. 

speQi Could I revive within me 

Which is lord of th? utterance, Christahd I Her symphony and song, 

iWi inowest to-mgbt, and wilt know to- To such a deep delight 'twould win me, 

morrow, That with music loud and long. 

Tins mark of thy shame, this seal of my . I could build that dome in air, 

sorrow ; That sunny dome ! those eaves of Ice ! 

Bs4 tsiniy thou warrest, And aH who heard should see them there, 

For this fc akme in And all should cry beware ! bewan ! 

Thy power to declare, His flashing eyes, Ms dossing hair f 

Tbjit to the dim fare* Weave a circle round him thne*, 

Thou heavdest a low moaning. And dose torn cym with hefty dreads 

4nd founcVst a bright lady smysssingly fair ; For he on honey -de w ham fed, 

And dsd*st bring her home with theem love And drank the milk of paradise.** 

and in charity, JCmbh Kfm. 
To shield her and shelter her from the 
damp ain w -^**«Wrf, p*rt 1* 

1 Can any thing be more divine than the musical versification of these pnssasjri ? And 
surely it is most appropriate. We could easily multiply such passages from Coleridge'* 
Works. See the mcantodon in the «« Rsxoas*" 

IflftJ The Fatutu* of Goethe. 83f 

that is not the trhfttostiir pedantry Of words, men words, repeated ever, 

with which Marlowe's scenes are fill- Beautiful Moon!— Ah ! would that now 

ed;but, perhaps, the wesrinessand J j* ** ^ *** ftj fw»f |«»» 

dimtkfcctttfi arising from the waste 5??**^ J^T? ^J* nl-llf 

rfjalent>un3^ ?L^£>£^ 

?LW** ^^"^ *». nM ! re Wearied wither*, thW^Talum* cjndleaf 

fcrably impressed upon us in the i gate 'mar* papexs-*crowded books, 

had rough fines of our own old poet, Alone— when thou, friend of the frmMrif, 

than in Goethe's more refined Ian- earnest smiling in with soothing loofcs— 

gusge, In the two plays, there is Oh ! that upon yon headland bejght, 

aarcely any other resemblance than 1 D0W was wandering in thy light, 

what wcura in the opening seene of ^^ wiw •mriu, bkeashsdow 

cub; and though boXpoeU are said ^und mo^tam cave-o'« twdigto me#. 

to be tmdabted to an old German play Or, bathing m thy d^ f could find 

wluch we haw not seen, yet their dis- Repwefrom toil-^ 

amilanty to each other is such, as Alas, and am I in the gloom 

enables us to decide, that they can Still of this cursed dungeon room? 

hare denied but little from a com-* Where even Heaven's fight so beautiful 

moo source. Thzo' the stained glass comes thick and 

We give the opening scene of d ull 

Gojtfce'e tragedy : 'Mong volumes heaped from floor to ceiling, 

Tims, NyghL Thr0 * whose pages worms are stealing— 

KllfaW^ higk^eM narrow Gothic ***?? waU *T wh 5 e du J? PW« 

rWrr ■ F AXuTTais desk, appear. ^^^^^,3°^ 

»^u^ w astes — instn impntB all lumber 

ft. Alaa! I ham explored <*** Uod f * e *•»* «~"»»»- 

HaaMpfay, and uWTud medicine, tHV""" £ ^"P 8 ^TT 

AnlwaTd^divirity fere pored, AU bathed me bjmTtabjw- 

«Myi»«; wm? .^ laid labieiou. «d_ ^m«n^confu«OBliuriedl 

Andhere I am at last a very fool. Here, Fawtua, u toy world— a world I 

Waft wake* leuniiJeuned, *? d P**? 1 ■*• wh ' m th 7.»»»* 

Nowk«manatiStl Thefearftahean Unotat weti 

TT-yeallmedoeior-aodll^d Why iiMpfiil feeling.. wde«M4, 

— •..'. ■ - . - ;■-. — % With icy preeure load thy mind I 

SgL** Prom >i^ntoe thou hart (fed 

•S;T??. y . ^ ?y ^7* ' TodweU^mongrreiraiaiUofttodead; 

Than- opnuoa* at I plaaae ! 1 j » a. i* ""n""""* t\ u uT^I. 

<*ad iSTtofeel Sat nothing on be *" d for ftJ*"?' ^* "^* H "* en 

fcfM>tim 1 ° To man hath in iu bounty given. 

TWii.. thought Unburn, into my heart, "«* d* ™**** °'f ."^P"* ^ 

I hat. teaTmaie acute than all tbcae Of brateurfburaanakeleton.1 

tnflen • Away— away— and fat away 

Boetor. and antaon, ptieete, pMlaeophen ; I""*^' vifj*"? 'E^TI * CM,,,ed, 

And wSEnot yidd a point » Hell or *«J*««i-. 

AidOTtt.Mtltt^ttatageubeknown; I^JM^M^E. 2Ll** 

TbadmteaUcoinfbrtftom^yniind- A. tpm* with theu- bn^ere aj»mk- 

^Vlkn^.thougfc/knew, SfcEBttSME-*- 

oaSBIS BOW mrnidiMMnflr or UDtTUe ! J-.. a/in»~ai| "r^** 77 aawiFwwa *-■>-• 

uZp^i^r^Sd blind, Then, ye whom I tW floating near pe, 

J «^h^eT^ mankind ! Spmts, answer nie, ye who bear me I 

^Triue sobbed 0/ leaning's only pleasure, iHe opetu the book, and glomcee over 

Without dominion, rank, or treasure, the tig* of Macroc os m u s.) 

Without one joy that earth can give ; Ha I what new fife divine, intense, 

What dag each hie would deign to live ?— Floods in a moment every sense ; 

Therefore with patient toil severe I feel the dawn of youth again, 

To magic have I long applied, Visiting each glowing vein ! 

la hope from spirits' lips to hear Was it a God, who wrote this sign f 

Setae certain clue my thoughts to guide, The tumults of my soul are soiled. 

Seme truth to others unrevealed, My withered heart with rapture filled ! 

Seme mystery from mankind sealed i In virtue of the spell divine, 

—And cease to teach, with shame of heart, Tiie secret r«wei^ that nature rnouH, 

Things of which I know no part ; Their essence and their acts nnftlnV- 

And see the secrets of the earth, The wise man's words at length are plain, 

The seeds of beings ere their birth—. Whose sense I sought so long in vain ! 

TkaeadsSejiDBta^veaingieiw " The world of qprits mo dseia cjomaav 

Thi FmuHo of Gbeiae. 



Min's eye is dim and K cannot see, 
•« Man's heart if dead and it cannot fed, 
M But thou, who would'st know the thing! 

that be, 
" Bathe thy heart in die samite red, 
** Till its stains of earthly dross are fled." 

(He locks over the sign attentively.) 
Oh! how the spell before my sight 
Brings nature's hidden acts to light- 
See! all things with each other blending— 
Bach to att its being lendinp— 
An on each in torn depending— 
Heavenly ministers descending— 
And agam to Heaven up-tending— 
Breathms Nestings see them bending— 
Balanced Worlds from change defending, 
Thro 9 all diffusing harmony unending ! 
Oh, what a vision, bat a vision only, 
For how can man, imperfect abject crea- 
Bmbrace thy charms, illimitable nature 1 
Waters of fife, all heavens and earth that 

Thou hast fotimtlled me to appear. 
And now— 

Fans. Alas! I shudder in aflHpfat ! 

Spirit. Win what anxiety of nnnd 
Didst thou demand to gaze on me, 
My voice to hear, my form to see ? 
Thy longings, earnest and intense, 
Have reached my sphere, and brought me, 

And now— what pitiful despair 
Hath taxed thee? thee, thou more than 

In Tain man's spirit sighs to feel ye near, 
Onward ye haste, we sigh to taste, 
lingering in mate despair, complauung, 

{He turns aoer the book sorrowfuUy % and 

glances over the sign of the Spirit 

of the Earth.) 
flow differently mis sign affects my frame ! 
Spirit of Earth, my nature it the tame, 
Or near a»km to thine ; 
How fearlessly I read mis sign, 
And fed, even now, new powers are mine, 
While my brain burns, as though with 

I feel within my soul the birth 
Of strength, enabling me to bear. 
And thoughts impelling me to share 
The fortunes sooa or evil of the earth ! 
To travel in the tempests breath. 
Or plunge where shipwreck grinds hit 

An around grows cold and cloudy, 
The moon withdraws her ray— 
The lamps thin flame is shivering— 
It fades it dies away ! 
Ha l—round my brow what sparkles ruddy 
In trembling light are quivering— 
From the roof with breath 
Comes a strange and icy feehng— 
Tis moo, I fed thee, spirit, near, 
Whom I summoned to appear ! 
Spirit to my tight be 

Where is the courage, that could dare 
To call on fieshkss spirits ! where 
The soul, that would conceive the plan 
Of worlds, that in its venturous pride, 
The bounds, which limit man, defied 
Heaved with high tense of inborn powers 
Nor feared to mete its strength with ours? 
Where art thou, Fauttut ! thou whose voice 

I heard, 
Whose mighty spirit pressed itself to mine! 
Art thou toe tame ? whose tenses thus are 


Whose very being in my bream is scattered, 
Whose tool into itself retreating, 
Vain worm can scarce endure the fearful 

Fa. Creature of flame, than I grow pale 
before thee ? 
'Twas I mat called thee— Fauttut— I, thy 

Spirit. In the currents of life, in the 

How my heart is torn in sunder, 

All my thoughts convulsed with wonder ! 

Bentet— harrowed up to bear 

Wild emotion s f ecUngsrare— 

gpirtt— my heart, my heart it given to 

Though death may be the price, I cannot 
chute but see! 
(He clasps the book, and p ro n ou nc e s the 
sign of the spirit m ysteri o u sly— a 
redjlom* and Uthejome the Spirit) 
Spirit Who hath called me ? , 
Fans, (averting his face.) Fearful sight ! 
Sfiril. Hither ftom my dittart sphere • 

Hither and thither, 

Over and under, 

Wend I and 

Birth and the grave— 

A limitless ocean. 

Where the restless wave 

Undulates ever— 

Under and over, 

Their toiling strife, 

I mingle and hover, 

The spirit of fife ; 
Hear the murmuring wheel of time, inl- 
At I weave the living mantle of God ! 
Fa. Spirit, whose pretence circles the 

wide earth, 
How. near akin to mine I fed my natnie. 
Spirit Man, thou art like those being* 

which thy mind 
Can image, not like me ! (Vanishes.) 

Fa. (overpow e red with confusion.) Net 

like thee! 
Formed in the image of the Deity ^ 
And yet unmeet to be compared wish thee? 

We have been induced to transcribe 
this entire scene, partly because the 
dialogue, being leas broken into abort 
sentences, is more easily separable 
from the piece, but chiefly because it 
seems the part of Goethe's tragedy 
which bears the greatest resemblance 
to Manfred. We cannot indeed avoid 
gssentiqg to Goethe's supposition, that 

1890.]] The Faustvs of Goethe. 9S9 

Finstus SHgyslwl Lord Byron's won* Lord Byron is identified by his read* 

derral drama. Manfred, however, era with his heroes, when such a man 

like the rest of Lord Byron's poems, as Goethe could believe and publish 

mod becomes a personification of the such ridiculous scandal as the personal 

lather's own feelings, and he forgets adventure which he attributes to his 

Fustus, and Goethe, and every thing Lordship. 

but himself, long before the dark ter- " The tragedy of Manfred, by Lord 
mination of the story. In the play Byron, is a most singular performance, 
before us, on the contrary, it is easy and one which concerns me nearly, 
to see the author's perfect dominion This wonderful and ingenious poet 
oier his subject ; that " he possesses, has taken possession of my Faust. 
(to use Coleridge's language on a dif- and hypochondriacal^ drawn from it 
went occasion) and is not possessed the most singular nutriment He has 
by ma genius ;" that the successive employed the means in it which suit 
tone* are brought forward to our his object in his particular manner, so 
fiew by the author, as a sympathizing that no one thing remains the same, 
witness, not as one of the sufferers or and on this account I cannot suffi- 
tfents--he allows us to feel for the ciently admire his ability. The re* 
distress occasioned by the hero of his cast is so peculiar, that a highly in* 
tile, and does not concentrate the en- teresting lecture might be given on 
tire interest on the workings of a sin- its resemblance, and want of resem- 
gfe bos om on the alternation of fe- blance, to its model — though I cannot 
Tcrish excitement and indolent des- deny, that the gloomy fervour of a rich 
p u r of passion and apathy— of ado- and endless despair becomes at last 
isdon towards nature s beauties and wearisome to us. However, the dis- 
siblimities, followed and contrasted pleasure which we feel is always con- 
by blasphemies against the author of nected with admiration and esteem, 
nature. Lord Byron is too fond of " The very quintessence of the sen* 
bringing before us the infidelity of a timents and passions, which assist in 
strong mind. It is a dangerous con- constituting tne most singular talent 
temptation, for we endeavour instinc- for self-commentary ever known, is 
lively to find a justification for the contained in this tragedy. The life 
errors of an intellect we admire. We and poetical character of Lord Byron 
tnftr— it is well if we do not half ap- can hardly be fairly estimated. Yet 
prove the evil for the sake of the good he has often enough avowed the source 
'With which it is associated. The early of his torments ; he has repeatedly 
works of Goethe, in common with pourtrayed it; but hardly any one 
much of the German literature, were sympathizes with the insupportable 
•subject to this charge, but we think pain with which he is incessantly 
this drama quite free from the offence, struggling. 

Xaustus is represented as being " un- " Properly speaking, he is conte- 
stable as water," with an active irapa- nually pursued by the ghosts of two 
tient imaginative mind, with a kindly females, who play great parts in the 
and affectionate heart. We feel that above-named tragedy, the one under 
he loves the poor girl whom he de- the name pf Astarte, the other with- 
at roy s we transfer his guilt to the out figure or visibility, merely a voice. 
Satanic being by whom he is attended " The following account is given of 
—we pity and forgive him. The mo- the horrible adventure which ne had 
ral sense is not wounded by an en- with the former : 
deavour to justify his crimes, for we " ' When a young, bold, and high- 
regard him not as a culprit, but as a lv attractive personage, he gained the 
sufferer under the influence of an evil favour of a Florentine lady ; the bus- 
demon. band discovered this, and murdered 
A few sentences from a work of his wife ; but the murderer urns found 
Goethe's, which we have not yet seen, dead in the rtreet the same night, un- 
have been translated in Baldwin's der circumstances which did not ad- 
London Magazine for last month, mit of attaching suspicion to any one/ 
They are curious, as shewing his opi- " Lord B. fled from Florence, and 
mon of Lord Byron's 'obligations to seems to drag spectres after him ever 
Fanstus, which, however, arc not as afterwards ! 

great ss he imagines— and still more " This strange incident receives a 

curious, wb shewing how strongly high degree of probability frmVnmft* 

my want of it! 
genuine and worthy 

840 The Fauttus of Gottke. QJu^e 

tnenhkaUvskms in his poems; as for An4 blow, with puffing Iwith.tftniggfing 

instance, in his application of the sto- ItyU 

ry of Pausanias to himself. OHmmenog eonftuedly now, now odd In 

" What a wounded heart must the 9tu ^ (netthcokljovs -j m - „ ^.i„ 

poet hare, who selects from antiquity Andf tf .n^lbodSay wk Was •wZtoT 

such an event, applies it to himself, and Wm ^ V9in W0B c^r of mpplid^gchfldiw ! 

loads bis tragic resemblance with it!" But a*?* hope to stir the beans of moo, 

This is a long digression ; but we And mould the souk of many into one, 

could not resist tne temptation of lay- By words, which come not attire from the 

ing before our readess so singular a heart 1 

passage. We will not delay them, how- w **: B wwaaioir, graceful utterance, 

ever, by any remarks of our own on A - «JJ ™ . A - iV 

Oej^'of feed*, erftte tat ^iTlfc^&m^SSl 

hasten to continue our sketch of his F(u Dogt ^^ * 

tragedy. bop? 

Faustus is interrupted in his re- Not as our town-declaimen use, **»«a ftHj 

flections on the interview with the Like a brute beast, with chimes of jingling 

Spirit of the Earth, by a visit from bells, 

his P¥P*\j Wagner, which we agree Reason and honest feeling want no aits 

with him in feeling disposed to resent ^utterance- no toQ tf etaitkm ; 

as an untimely intruslonT Wagner ?t^I?&?£tt£l£?* 

appears to us to be a very common- ^dawptossi! ■*■»■■*•■ 

place sort of person-^* man of some in which wo^s your wmMut 

common sense, but no imagination — places, 

devoted steadily and industriously to Are U&leat, unproductive, as the 

literary pursuiU -^-learning from the That sighs in autumn 'mang tb 
critics the beauties of the poets— a 
good impersonation of the combined 
qualities of a private tutor and a re- 
viewer—Mr Cobbett writing on gram- 
mar or lecturing on taste. Nothing, 

however, can be ferther from the ^ __^ 

poet's mind than the idea of speaking OH ! with what difficulty awlhe 

irreverently of so important a per- Acquired, that lead ua |o the 

BOnage, knowledge 1 

,. w . ., . . , And when the path Is found, era we have trod 

JSmUr iy*gner % m Mt *>eanspg*«m and Ha jf ^ j^,,- way— poor wretches! we 

wigh^cap^al^mfimhUMamd. Fmigkp must die! 

U*m romd dispka** Fa. An mouldy leesrat, Uien, the bsty 
Wag. Forgive sae, but I thought you 

were declaiming. 
Yen have been sccmag some Greek play, 

no doubt | 
I wish to improve myself in thif same arts 
Tfc a most useful one. I've heard it said, 
An actor might give lessons to a parson. 
Fa. Yes ( when your parson is himself 

an actor; 
A cjbemnstanee which very often happens ! 
W*g. Oh t If a man shuts himsal' 

Imbia dull study; if he sees the world 
Never, unless on some chance-holiday 

Iflofc'd at fmm a distance, thro' a telescope, heaven ! 

How can be learn to sway the minds of men To us, my friend, the times that are gone by 

By eloquence ? to rule mem or persuade ? Are a mysterious book, sealed with seres 

_ the withered 
leaves ! 

Wag' The search of knowledge is a wea- 
ry one, 
And lire, alas ! Is short!— 
Hew often have the heart and brain, c/er- 

Shrunk back despairing from fequsrimveai! 

Whose healing waters still the thirst within? 
Ob! never yet hath mortal drunk 
A draught restorative. 
That welled not from the depths of hit own 
Wig. Pardon me, but you will at least 
That 'tis dehgfrtful to transfuse yourself 
Into the spirit of the ages pest | 
up To see how wise tnen thought molc>o time, 
And how far we outstep their sasseh in 
Fa. Oh yes! af far as from the earth to 

Fa. If feeling does not prompt, in vain 
you strive; 
If from the soul the language dees not come, 
By its own impulse, to impel the hearts 
Or hearers trim communicated power, 
in vain you strive— in vein you study ear- 
Toil on tor ever; piece together frajpnents; 
Cook up your broken soaps of sentences, 


That which you caD the spirit of ages past 
Is but in truth the spirit of some few men, 
In which those ages are beheld reflected. 
Oh! often, what a ttrtagsne thing it is 
This study of thine, at the flat glance we 

fly it. 
A mass of things confusedly heaped together; 
A lumber-room of dusty document*, 

The Fauthu of Goethe. 4*1 

rith all approved court-prece- Yet, dull fattruder, mint ofy hem 

i. Thank thee* Wretched at Hum ait, 

tttfaml maxims ! Oh, how well When my senses sank beneath 

joss play the puppets of mm- Despair, and fought relief hi death ; 

! When life within me dying shivered, 

at knowledge of the world— Thy presence torn the trance delivered, 

* heart aadmhkU- Oh ! while I atood before that giant stature, 

levjt, we aBahodld learn a little. How dwarfed I fak beneath in aeUer na* 
few*/ men call h learning, ttuel 

may dare 1mm of God, I thought that I had been 

ingt by their ml names ! The 8ubflmed tan earth, no more a ehfld of 

now something, and were weak ft**, ihling gfcwioo^ irim HesWs own 

ybhertunguarf«ri--to expose I bjai Uhefa 1^uth*s ewntaumce sewne ! 

anflreelltototheeyesofmeh, Greater thanthtrubs, who have strength to 
bom nailed to crosse s th rown 

Through Mature, who 111 actions of their 

I but tie Tery late, my friend $ VWH 

• told On conversion loriger. ttm, enjoy a sense of Deity, 

cm willingly would I aH up for Greater than theirs I deemed thy dignity, 

■ » . m _^ f Doomed lor inch dreams presumptuous to 

instruction from your learned attfte* 

■* ' - n , All by one word of thunder overthrown f 

•^isa boon ctaEaster*day, spbit, I may not mete myself with thee! 

Pertotme a few questions more; True, I compdkd thee to Appear, 

Had with diligence to study- - But had no flower to held thee here ! 

I know, the more I loogm Oh ! at that glorious moment how I felt— 

•ledge, <*rtt. Hew little afai how great ! 

ssj spoken, perhaps, too die* Thy presence flung me shuddering back 

ly of Wagner, but he never Into man's abject state « 

■oept to interrupt something That inexplicable trance 

mting than any lecture on Of utter hopeless ignorance f 

hich we could receive. After ^™W^^*J?W**\*m* 

^pursuit, in whkh we And ^X^^^&^^L 

i*ga*ed, it ia impossible to fij^i *5 £ J - ™ 1 * — ****** 

HHtaition— we cannot forgive _. . Wl^ er of nol^tiiought 

dfoot that breaks the wpdD— Tbehmmm^ nn wmA uA^gfi mid 

sajselre* defrauded of the pre- i^HsiUnawJ that adhere, 

the spirits, with whom we i n8epM1 bly. Oh ! when we obtain 

d to find Faustus conversing. The goods of this world, soon do we ret. 

it, that thus disturbed, they train 

•gain return. And when Our loftier aspirations, and we call 

Inn left Fanstns's study, we Man's better riches a delusion vain c 

Bd to listen to the voice of Ira- TJemcdw of an idle vision all! 

hhlaint, and human sorrow. The ^^f fr - "*? IF* 11 m u ■ B S bnlh# 

| i Sssatiafaction is expressed Are W^and & Wg the low cam 

of deeper dejectioii— " divine 

r has lost its charm ; and, How boldly, in the days of yonthftil Hope, 

ha resolves on suicide, it is Imagination spreads jierwmg imchecked, 

md^r than the phUoso- ^^^t^t^Z^heT^ 1 

«^«-,*Vw4« ~u;~u u- • «. An d «»» how small a space suffices ner, 

jno^wy, to which, by a na- ^^ FoTtane ^ ,_ ^ tonm, 

deception, he endeavours to And all we loved in life's strange whirl is 

»it wrecked! 

gUtr exit. Fautfus atone.) Deep in die breast, Care builds her nest, 

a nhahdons not the humblest mind ! And ev^Ntortaring scares all rest f 

i wish the loneliest bosom forms, Each day assumes some new disguise, 

i with eagerness lor gold, and find With some new art the temper tries* 

ilnst and Uinn ■IHiTi riunnli 1 1 in Fretting die mind with household cares, 

a*! Suggesting doubts of wife or heirs! 

And worms ! Hinting dark fancies to die soul, 

snawa accents dare Of fire and flood— of dirk and bowl, 

fettle midnight air, Man trembles thus each hour at fancied 

if ntesn and worthless sound, 

em spirits breathed around? And weeps for ever at ideal losses 


940 The Faustus of Goethe. £Jn 

Am not I like the gods ?— Alas ! I tremble. Come from thy dark recess, 
Feeling, imprest upon my soul, the thought Where for long years unheeded thou hastlaoi 

Of the mean worm, whose nature I resemble. Oh, atmy father's banquets thou wot bright, 

'Tis dust, and lives in dust, and the chance Cheering the guest, or hotting; his eytfixt 

tread In admiration of the graver's skill. 

Crushes the wretched reptile into nought ! As each to each passed on the cup with pane! 

• • • • Its massy pride, and figures high embossed, 
Shall I find here the object of my search? The merry task of each, who in his tan, 
Turn o'er, perhaps, a thousand books, to Ere yet he raised it to his lint, should siy 

Had Some rude rhyme in its poise, and at one 
How men have every where complained of draught, 

fortune, Dnm the deep beverage 9— aH bring back 
How here and there some one man has been tome 

happy ! The many thoughtless joyous nights of boy. 
{Looking at a skull on the table.) hood ! 

What means thy grinning smile, thou Oh, never more to neighbours shall I reach 

empty skuU ? thee, 

Means it to say, thy brain, like mine be- **& never more frame verses in thy praise! 

wildered Th " "■ * draught, that soon intoxicates, 

In anxious search for truth, once sought Aw* dark And turbid trembles its browi 

the beam flood*— ~ 

Of cloudless day; and in the mists of twilight. But 'tis my choice— I mixed it and wiD 
Long wandering perplexed, sunk down de- drink ! — 

spairing ! Oh» ma 7 lt he my last drink upon earth ! 

And ye, vain instruments, oh ! how ye An offering, sacred to the higher joy, 

mock me, ThAt ere the morning light will bless my sod! 
Wheels, pulleys, rings, and lathes and cy- As he is raising the cup to his 

linden, mouth, he is attracted by the sound (i 

AtNature's door I stand, youshouldbekeys; bells from without, and the song of 

But weak are all your wards, the strong the choir, who are commencing siready 

Unsearc^leTda^ abundant light j° *> "* Z®& aCWding * *" 

uSSSL Man ,Ly not remoter veil £^™^' to «™»«5»«» 

Mysterious^-what she wills to be concealed, Eas^ mora the resurrection of ow 

In vain with levers and with screws you strive Liora. 
Idly to wring from her reluctant bosom ! Sft*? ty™*— Choir of the angeU.) 

• • • • " Christ is from the grave arisen ! 
But wherefore is my eye thus rivetted .«% to mortals, weak and weary, 
In one direction ?— why does yonder flask Held by earth m thraldom dreary ! 
Attract my glance, as though it was a mag- He hath hurst the grave's stern portals ; 

ne t ? He is risen, joy to mortals !" 
What brightness, lavish, lovely shines a- Fa - Oh, those deep sounds, those voices 

round me ! nch and heavenly f 

As when the moonlight cheers a midnight How powerfully they sway the soul, and fores 

grove p The cup uplifted from the eager lips. 

I give thee thanks^-I greet thee as a friend, ***** hells* ""* do your peals already ring 

The best of friends; and with religious fed- To peet me joyous dawn of Eastewnoni F 

ing, And ye. rejoicing choristers, already 

I take thee down, and reverence in thee Flowsforth your solemn song of consolation f 

The power and knowledge of the mind of That song, which race from angel Bps re- 
men, sounding 

Extract of herbs, that minister kind slum- Around the midnight of the grave, was heaift 

The pledge and proof of a new covenant ! 

Essence of all the subtlest powers of death, Hymn continued— Song of the women at tkm 
Now bless me with thy favourable aid I sepulchre. 

I see thee, and my pangs are less and less. We laid him for burial 
I clasp thee, and my anguish dies away ; 'Mong aloes and myrrh ; 
My agitated heart at length grows calm f His children and friends 
Oh ! I am plunging into a wide ocean, Laid their dead master here ! 
That, like a mirror, sparkles at my feet ; AH wrapt in his grave-dress, 
Strange light to shores unknown allures me We left him in fear- 
onward ! Ah ! where shall we seek him ? 
A car of fire with easy motion glides The Lord is not here I 
Hither ; my heart seeks eagerly to press Song of the Angels. 
Thro* air, by paths unknown, to climes un- The Lord hath arisen, 

known ; Sorrow no longer ; 

And worlds unstained by Man's infirmity ! Temptation hath tried him, 
• • • • But he was the stronger. 

■ • ■ • The grave is no prison, 

Let me then welcome thee, dear crystal cup, The Lord hath arisen I 

ft. Soft sounds, that breathe of Hea- 
ven, mart wild, most powerful, 
Wk* seek ye here?— Why win ye come to 

immersed ?.— Oh rather 

Ttasertoof toft and penetraMe mould ! 
I bar your message, but I hare not feitt 
Asi luraele ii Faith's beloved oftapring ! 
lesanot force myself into thow spheres, 

The Faustus of Goethe. 


In your lives his laws obey— 
Let Love your governed bosoms sway— 
Blessings to the poor convey- 
To God with humble spirit pray- 
To Max his benefits display- 
Act thus and He— your master dear. 
Though unseen, is ever near ! 

In the next division of the play, the 

m _ scene changes to the fields outside the 

Waste these good tidings of great joy are town, which are seen crowded with 

heard; confused groupes of citizens of all 

ftai yet, from youth numliar with these classes. Without transcribing the en- 

•wmds, -.,.«- tire, we could not convey an idea of 

*"* ""! t fe?Pj l £ ^if 8 ?" 1 JlSZ this lively and hurried scene. The fol- 
Oionc«,mlioyhood-stiiiie,theloveofHea- lowi ^ ^ s^ by a p^ty of ^ 

Cane down upon me-whh mysterious kiss diers as they pass on, is all we have 

BJhwnng the stillness of the Sebb»th^»y! room for. 

Abb ware the voices of those bells melodi- •« cities, wim high walls and fences,— 

oas » ... , - ,. __*• i Maidens, with their haughty glances ■— 

Masjaagwith hopes and ^fodinp mystical, These the soldier seeks *m£dW, 

&at prayer was then mdeed a burning joy I ^ to ^n,™ which ^ ] m ^ a » 

PMfings resistless, incommunicable, Uoawsr is tAe toJoVer't duty. 

Dam na*nwai>d^thrc^ fields anu B Zlis pri.e U fame and beauty . 

TWwass named hot and mst— I feltwithin Rngh we at the trumpet measure, 

last ay soul hungered for a better world— with brythehearts, to death and pleasure— 

laaw balls announced the merry sports of How the soldier's blood is warming, 

youth-- When we think of cities storming— 

laws songs did welcome in the happy Fortress strong, and maiden tender, 

spang! Must alike to us surrender ! 

lint as if once more a little child, Danger u the sorter's duty, 

laiesi Remembrance, twining round my But kit prim it fame and beauty. 

Ftrfaidi this act, and checks my daring Faustus and Wagner witness this 

daps scene of general gaiety with different 

Ifcasmev* forth— sweet songs that breathe feelings.— We give part of their din- 

of heaven, loffue. 

Tan come ! and Earth hath won her ° 

child again! 

HTiar coktin USD— Song of Youths. 

He who was buried. 
Hath risen from the grave, 

The Lord is in glory— 
Is mighty to save ! 

Enthroned in brightness, 

His labours are over, 
On earth do his children 

8131 linger and suffer ! 

His own— his disciples 
He leaves in their anguish, 

If aster, forget not 
Thy servants, who languish ! 

The Song of Angel*. 

Christ is 

The Lord hath ascended, 
The dominion of Death 

And Corruption is ended. 

Your work of obedience 

Hasta to begin, 
Break from the bondage 

Of Satan and sin.— 

Vol. VII. 

Fa. River and rivulet are freed from ice 
In Spring's affectionate inspiring smile 
Green are the woods with promise far away 
To the rough hills old Winter hath with- 
Strengthless— but still at intervals will send 
Light feeble frosts, with drops of diamond 

Varying the green bloom of the springing 

But the sun suffers not the lingering snow- 
Everywhere life— everywhere vege t a t ion— 
All nature animate with glowing hues— 
Or, if one spot be touched not bv the spirit 
Of the sweet season, there, in colours rich 
As trees or flowers, are sparkling many 

dresses ! 
The town, from its black dungeon gates 

forth pours, 
In thousand parties, the gay multitude, 
All happy, all indulging m the sunshine ! 
Servants, delighting in their master's absence, 
Enjoy themselves abroad — from chambers 

Of poor mean bouses— from consuming toil 
Laborious— from the work-yard and the 

Prom the imprisonment of walls and roofs, 
And the oppression of confining streets, 

9*4 Tkt Fmstm* of&xtke. £*■* 

And from the salemn twfltgst of dim fsisssats, who reme bis lean*, and 

cJsurcnest who now form a circle round trim, to 

£!.?* ' £ ?. i. ' ". £'?"£!.—' .« retatndnnkiftrto c o od caw miuM in 

•»»»r-- r-^.^o.iii.ia. and for hi» exertions in oppmfmr, cb 

Ho. «£«*.««. fe« .ecu.*, .former occasion,. de*r«3S«]Si«. 

Is joyous wimimramerable boats! Faustus retires from them, to escape 

See there, one almost staking with its load, these praises, which he feels he has 

Pans from the shore; yonder the hOMop- not merited.-— and Wagner to morabie 

paths on the respect in which learning is 

Are sparkling in the distance with gay held by the ignorant. Wagner tries 

dresses . to relieve Faustus r a de gressio n of sni- 

"l&W sounds of joy from the far ^ ^ ^ mt ri&£tian tbtlris 

Ohhaia^es?nsethisisrealheaTen! t^^uAtagfeO^^hKfe^Bm^ 

The mgh, the low, in pleasure sll uniting— *\ a valuable addition to science,— to 

Here inay I feel thai I too am a man ! this Faustus replies : 

Wcg. Doctor, to walk with you is he- Oh he indeed is happy t who stfll fecit 

nourable And cherishes within Ins hessrt, tbehsoe 

And most instructive, else I would not now To lift himself above the sea of csior! 

Consent to loiter my time thus away, Of things we know not, each day dove had 

As I approve not of these coarse amuse- Thowantof ktsswlcdge— all 
meats; lessi 

Fiddles, and clamorous throats, and kettle* But 'tis not wise to —Mm with asm 

drums thoughts 

Are to my inind things mu^mtolerabki ^Ws hour ofbeauty and benniky ;— 

Men rave, as if possessed by evil spirits, i^ yonder with dclightnu^esw* said eve, 

And call their madness joy and harmony I On those low cottages, that shine so assort, 

Booed in the glory of the setting am ! 
{Peasants dancing and tinging.) But hr Is psilnsj farting da/is o*i 


Yonder he hastens to dispense 
Oh for a wing to raise me up from earth, 
The Shepherd for the dance was drest, Nearer and yet more near so too taight orb. 

me light—mis 

With ribbands, cap, and Sunday vest, But have 1 seen by Evening^ heavenly 

All wen dancing roll of glee light, 

Underneath the linden-tree ! The world that sleeps so stilly at my feet, 

^is merry, and merry-^etgh4io,hd8^i4io! These hills now kindling " 

Brythe goes the fiddle-bow T stream, 

M , ... Whose breast now shines like 

8oon he runs to jom the rest— eoft rale, 

Up m a pretty god he prest, (How calm it is), all seemed as 'twere to 
With elbow raised, and pointed toe, flow 

Bent to her with his best bow— i n floods of gold, beyond expresaian bright— 

8qaeexed her hand ;— with feigned surprise Nothing to stop or stay the gad-like motion 

Up a^raiaed her timid eyes I of the wild hifl, and all its vales— the sea, 

"Tissfawn^youshooUuseineso, With its warm bays, to the astonished eyes 

&* so— heigh-ho,— Opened its bosom— but at length the sun 

rude of you to use me so. Seemed just prepared to sink— « power un- 

AU into the set advance, ,„ ^JSHHt 

An impulse indescribable 

^^J^ho^ Onw^mc^tlha^too^km. 

F^wim^ny^ring: Of the eternal h^it-balbre me day 

InyiS 'SiSjf ^^!l WMnt *** "^ ** ** behind-and overhead 

fflow^w^SSh.™ WideTtaven-^ujrfermete 

Tired in elbow, foot, and toe! Aglork^'viric^.-ereitp-taway, 

" And do not make so free," she said, The sun hA sunk.— Oh, to the spinTi 

4i I (Sear that you may never wed ;— oight, 

" Men are cruel : M — and he prest How &int **& feeble axe material wings ! 

The maiden to bis beating breast. Yet goch m nature is, that when the lark, 

Hark again the sounds of glee H % h over UB * unseen, in the b