Arnold comes to the lady's rescue, but she scouts his proferred assistance, precipitates herself from the canonical Tarpeian, splits her excellent white skull on the Mosaic, and is carried off half-dead by the Devil and the Deformed Transformed into the Colonna Palace: "Casar. Come then! raise her up! Arnold. Softly! Cæsar. As softly as they bear the dead, Perhaps because they cannot feel the jolting." (P. 83.) The present publication (as is said in a short preface) contains the two first parts only of the entire drama, and the opening Chorus of the third; the rest is to appear (" perhaps") hereafter. From the Chorus, which is laid amidst the Apennines, we beg leave to select the following beautiful-lament for the violet: "The spring is come: the violet's gone, The first-born child of the early sun; With us she is but a winter's flower, The snow on the hills cannot blast her bower, And she lifts up her dewy eye of blue To the youngest sky of the self-same hue. [host And when the spring comes with her Of flowers, that flower beloved the most Shrinks from the crowd that may confuse Her heavenly odour and virgin hues. Pluck the others, but still remember Their Herald out of dim DecemberThe morning star of all the flowers, The pledge of day-light's lengthened hours; Nor, midst the roses, e'er forget "Chorus. The Hound bayeth loudly, With birds from their nest. Of empire and chace, The versification of the poem, as is usual with our author's later works, is shamefully incorrect; if it be regulated by any principle, which we very much doubt, the principle is a false one,-at least the practice of ending heroic lines in the midst of an uniterruptible flow of words, whereby all metrical distinction between verse and prose is annihilated, can never be successful in the English, whatever it may be in the Italian school of poetry. Will it be believed that the harmonious soul which poured forth the eloquent numbers above, could be guilty of such meterless measure as this: "Cæsar. I tell thee, be not rash; a golden bridge Is for a flying enemy. I gave thee A form of beauty, and an Exemption from some maladies of body, But not of mind, which is not mine to give" (P. 68.) or this: “Arnold. Had no Power presented me The possibility of change, I would Have done the best which Spirit may, to make Its way, with all Deformity's dull, deadly, Discouraging weight upon me, like a mountain, In feeling, on my heart as on my A writer in the London Magazine stigmatizes this new species of versification, under the name of “ prosepoetry," and we certainly are much inclined to aid him in preventing, as far as we can, the dissemination of such an erroneous method of composition, which we perceive has been of late years ardently cultivated, even by our best Writers. We cannot but say that this hobbling uneasy measure, half verse, half prose, is as far from the Miltonian standard, as it is from that of true melody, and that it merits the utmost discouragement and reprobation from the critics and the public in general. As may appear from the preceding observations, the Deformed Transformed is, for what we have seen, a work, in our opinion, totally unworthy of the illustrious author; monstrous in design, flimsy in composition, meagre in imagery, wretched in versification,-a hasty, crude, and extravagant thing. But no one can read it, without acknowledging that it is the effusion of a great and extraordinary mind, an audacious fancy, and a splendid genius. Lord Byron may write below himself, but he never can write below us. Alas! that he does not write a page, where he writes a poem ! METHOD OF EDUCATION IN The following is an extract from a book, "Ascending the gauts of Hindostan, near the western extremity, which he describes as superior to the Appenines of Italy, in natural beauties, he arrives at a fortress, sometimes called Garicola, but now Gavarada Naghar, near which is a temple of Hamant. In the porch of the temple," says he, "I entertained myself by beholding little boys learning arithmetic, after a strange manner, which I will here relate. They were four; and having all taken the same lesson from the master to get that same by heart, and repeat likewise their former lessons, and not forget them; one of them singing musically with a certain continued tone (which hath the force of making deep impression in the memory), recited a part of the lessons; as for example, one by itself makes one; and whilst he was thus speaking, he writ down the same number, not with any kind of pen nor on paper, but (not to spend paper in vain) with his finger on the ground, the pavement being for that purpose strewed all over with very fine sand; after the first had writ down the same thing together, then the first boy sung and writ down another part of the lesson; as for example, two by itself make two, which all the rest re peated in the same manner, and so forward in order. When the pavement was full of figures, they put them out with the hand, and if need were, strewed it with new sand from a little heap which they had before them, wherewith to write farther. And thus they did as long as the exercises continued; in which manner likewise they told me they learnt to read and write, without spoiling paper, pens or ink, which certainly is a pretty way. I asked them, if they happened to forget or be mistaken in any part of the lesson, who corrected and taught them, they being all scholars, without the assistance of the master? They answered me and said, true, that it was not possible for all four of them to forget or mistake in the same part, and that they thus exercised together, to the end that if one happened to be out, the others might correct him. Indeed, it is a pretty easy and secure way of learning." HONOUR TO WOMAN. FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER. Translated by Lord F. L. Gower. "Honour to Woman! to her it is given To wreathe the dull earth with the roses of heaven, The heart in the bonds of affection to twine, And, with chastity's veil, round the form of the graces, To raise and revive, in her holy embraces, Nearer forms content to lose; Man his shadowy bliss pursues. And, content with the charms with which na- With a daughter's obedience submits to her chain. Roused to each insane endeavour, Man collects his hostile might; But woman, content with less arrogant powers, And snatch them from Time as he hastens along. More blest and more free in her limits remaining Than man in the wide realms of wisdom attaining, Or in poetry's boundless dominions of song. . To his own enjoyment bending Every spring of passion's play? While her bosom swells high with its raptures or sorrows And her glances express them through sympathies dew. Mailed strength, and arm'd defiance- Persia bows beneath its edge. Wins what peace could ne'er bestow. But woman can govern each tide and occasion, With the eloquent voice of her gentle per. snasion, And extinguish Hate's torch, which was lighted in hell; And the powers of strife, which seemed parted for ever, Are bound in an union which time cannot "Beneath our bowsprit wild and free I blest the breeze, I blest the sea, Still as with pilgrim's footsteps faint My earliest prayer was thine. In vain the sun more genial glows In vain his ruddier vintage flows,- That springs on foreign soil. Around that oak the moss may stray, I would not read its twine away, And though his wintry leaves be shed If still beyond my country's shore When all the wanderer's toils are o'er, VARIETIES. A RECEIPT TO CURE LOVE. You must take a grain of sense, half a grain of prudence, a dram of understanding, one ounce of patience, a pound of resolution, and a hand-full of· ́ dislike; intermix them all together, and fold them up in the interior parts of your brain for two hours and a quarter; then set them on a slow fire of hatred, and strain it from the dregs of melancholy; sweeten it with forgetfulness; then put it in the bottle of your heart, and stop it with the cork of judgment; after which let it stand for ten days in the water of cold affection. This rightly made and fully applied, is the most effectual remedy in the universe. You may have it at the house of Understanding, in Constantstreet, by going up the hill of Selfdenial, in the town of Forgetfulness, in the county of Love. A RECEIPT FOR LOW SPIRITS. Take one ounce of the seeds of resolution, properly mixed with the oil of good conscience; infuse it into a large spoonful of the salts of patience, distil very carefully a composing plant called Others Woes, which you will find in every part of the Garden of Life, growing under the broad leaves of disguise. Add a small quantity, and it will greatly assist the salts of patience in their operation; gather a handful of the blossoms of hope, then sweeten them properly with the balm of providence, and if you can get any of the seeds of true friendship, you will then have the most palatable medicine that can be administered. But you must be careful to get some of the seeds of true friendship, as there is a weed very much like it called self-interest, which will spoil the whole composition. Make the ingredients into pills, which call pills of comfort; take one night and morning, and in a short time the cure will be effected. TO TAKE OUT GREASE FROM THE LEAVES OF BOOKS. After having warmed the paper stained with grease, wax, oil, or any fat body whatever, take as much of it out as possible, by means of blotting paper. Then dip a small brush in the essential oil of well-rectified spirits of turpentine, heated almost to ebullition (for when cold it acts but weakly), and draw it gently over both sides of the paper, which must be kept warm. This operation must be repeated as many times as the quantity of the fat body imbibed by the paper, or the thickness of the paper, may render necessary. When the greasy substance is entirely removed, recourse may be had to the following method to restore the paper to its former whiteness, which is not completely restored by the first process. Dip another brush in highly rectified spirits of wine, and draw it in like manner over the place which was stained, and particularly round the edges, to remove the border that would still present a stain. By employing these means, with proper caution, the spot will totally disappear; the paper will assume its original whiteness; and if the process has been employed on a part written on with common ink, or printed with printer's ink, it will experience no alteration. his apprentice, if the butcher should knock early in the morning, to order certain joints which he mentioned. About two in the morning the lad was awakened from a sound sleep, by a loud knocking at the door; when, crawling to the window and lifting up the sash, a messenger from a sick patient bawled out, "Doctor, what's good for the cholic?" The half sleeping apprentice, thinking it was the butcher, yawning, answered, "A loin of veal, a leg of mutton, and a round of beef." HANGING BY PROXY. A malefactor having committed some crime, for which he was sentenced to be hanged, received the awful fiat with so much coolness, that the Judge was disposed to believe the man had not understood him, and accordingly caused it to be repeated by one of the native counsellors. The man replied, that he understood the Judge very well. "You are to be hanged to-morrow," repeated the barrister. "Sahep ko koosi" "as the gentleman pleases," replied the culprit, and followed his conductor out of court, apparently unconcerned. A few days elapsed before the sentence could be put in execution; and, when brought forth, as they supposed, to suffer the punishment of his crime, there appeared quite a different person. This being reported to the Judge, he was ordered to be brought before him, and it was discovered that the other had given this man three rupees to be hanged in his place. The former one of course made his escape; and, strange as it may appear, the substitute was afraid of being discharged, lest he might insist upon his refunding the three rupees, which he had spent, he said, on metais, cakes of which they are particularly fond, made of sugar and flour.-A Tour through the Upper Province of Hindostan. DIFFERENCE OF POLITICAL OPINIONS. was urged to take off Wilkes, who was While Foote was at Edinburgh, he at that time as obnoxious in Scotland as he was popular in England. He answered that he had but one objection; which was, "that as he intended to take himself off for London in a few days, he did not choose to sup on brickbuts and rotten eggs the first night of his arrival in the metropolis." THE POET'S EPIGRAM. What's lighter than a feather? A LADY'S DON'T LIKES. I do not like the man that's tall, A drunken man my heart will break. " O COME, MY BONNIE BARK. À SONG. O come, my bonnie bark, O'er the waves let us go, And thy wings like the snow- Ere the wane of the moon. The proud oak that built thee Now it swims on the sea, CORNER. III. O sweet, sweet's her voice, Like the rose-bud in June; As the foaming wave flows, IV. O haste, my bonnie bark, O'er the waves let us bound, Or the bare from the honed. THE POET'S FATE. Sons of dulness, and of wealth, Aching head, and weary limbs, THE TWOPENNY BAG. Whereat the gentleman began to stare "My friends," he cried, "p-x take you for your care.”—Pope. "To err is human, to forgive divine"-we entreat our friend Giles to take upon himself the nobler attribute, and pardon our having mislaid his epistle. We will endeavour to have it forthcoming next number. Don't be angry "Amoroso"-but when a man tries his wings in vacuo, he must inevitably come to the ground "Dear creatures we can't do without 'em, They're all so sweet and seducing to man." And if "Amoroso" makes love with as little fire as he writes verses, on our consciences we see nothing wonderful in the lady's coldness. The next time he approaches the dear creature we recommend him to strike up con spiritoso. Thanks to "Tuzzi Muzzi”—his labour shall not be in vain ;-but as for "Slander" what the devil does the fellow mean?-"D-n it, sir," we print nobody's Oaths but our own. We hope shortly to hear from W. M. B. Contributions (post paid) to be sent to the Editor, at the Publishers. |