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Che Lion's head. 387 | The ACADEMY of TASTE for GROWN
GENTLEMEN, or the Infant Con.
noisseur's Go-Cart, by JANUS The Cockpit ROYAL:
WEATHERCOCX, Esq....... 445 Edward Herbert's Letters to the
MODERN GALLANTRY, by ELIA....453 Family of the Powells, No. V.
455 with a Wood Engraving..... 389
Song: Awake, my Love!...
On the Moral Influence of Etiquette The Last of Autumn: by John Clare 403 and Parade.....
456 FONTHILL ABBEY, by the Author Review: Sir Marmaduke Maxwell, of Table Talk.....
405 &c. by Alan Cunningham ... 460 Walking Stewart.....
466 EARLY FRENCH POETS, with Trans
Report of Music.
473 lations :
The Falling Leaf: by Mr. MontMaurice Sceve and Guillaume des
413 Abstract of Foreign and Domestic Occurrences
477 On the Life and Writings of Richard Jago.
Literary and Scientific Intelligence.. 483 Continuation of Dr. Johnson's Lives of the Poets........... 419
Monthly Register. The Tale of ALLAN LORBURNE,
65 Mariner: with Ballads : viz.
66 The Sailor's Lady :
Works preparing for Publication and
69–71 Review: Bracebridge Hall, by the Bankruptcies and sequestrations..... 74
Author of the Sketch Book ........ 436 Births, Marriages, and Deaths .. 75–76 The Story of Ampelus, translated from Ecclesiastical Preferments
77 the Dionysiacs of Nonnus :
Observations on the Weather, for Sept. 73 The Foot Race:
72 The Swimming Match:
Meteorological Journal, for Sept..
77 Death of Ampelus 440 | Markets, Stocks, &c.
PRINTED FOR TAYLOR AND HESSEY.
[Entered at Stationers' Hall.]
THE LION'S HEAD.
IMMEDIATELY after the publication of a just and excellent Essay upon French PRETENSIONs in our last number, we met with a passage in Diodorus Siculus, which would have made the aptest motto to the paper that Author could desire. We cannot resist still letting our readers see what a writer of the time of Julius Cæsar thought of the French, because it is really astonishing that the national character of France should have undergone so little alteration in the space of 2000 years. What an eternal dance of mind and body this volatile people seems to be involved in !
They (the Gauls) are high and hyperbolical in trumpeting out their own praises ; but speak slightly and contemptibly of others. They are apt to menace others ; self-opi. nionated ; grievously provoking; of sharp wits, and apt to learn.-Diodorus Siculus, Chap. ii. Booth's Translation.
The following poem is melodiously written, and, with the exception of the fourth line of the first stanza, has more sweetness in it than generally marks our anonymous modern lyrics. We should, however, be glad to know the meaning of the said fourth line-it quite pozes us.
FAREWELL TO ITALY.
Written on leaving Genoa, May, 1822.
Farewell to the lovely clime
And the piny mountains climb.
Farewell to her fervid skies !
Farewell to the land of the south !
Was that bright land to me,
Like music's witchery.
I felt the genial air :
Farewell to the land of the south !
Have hallow'd each grove and hill,
Are lingering round us still.
Invoked by fancy's spell,
To the glorious land of the south !
Romantic Italy !
As once of the brave and free!
Alas ! for thy classic shore !
A. B. M.
We have received a letter (directed “to be delivered immediately,") giving us a description of The Mermaid now exhibiting in St. James's Street, from the pen of “ Dr. Rees Price, a gentleman distinguished for his scientific literary productions." Does the proprietor of this suspicious importation think that we never read Sheridan's Puff Collateral, or that we will artlessly stand a comma 'tween the amities of him and the Stamp Office! No-noBesides, who is this distinguished Dr. Rees Price? We really do not know him-nor can we meet with any one who does. Has he any interest in this herring-tailed lady? -The Mermaid, in fact, comes very suspiciously, per the Americans. Now, if Mermaids do really exist, we must say we are surprised that no fisherman ever netted a specimen since the year One!
The following is taken, as Nimrod assures us, from a real “ Old Poem,” upon hunting, and indeed it has the appearance of having never been young.
Now the loud (rp is up-and hark !
Vousewife heares the merrie route
We really have not room this month for particular replies to our numerous Unknowns. We only request they will not mistake our Silence for Consent.
EDWARD HERBERT'S LETTERS TO THE FAMILY OF THE POWELLS.
To Russell Powell, Esq.
It has a strange quick jar upon the ear,
Dear Russell,—To write short hopes-spake of pain and its comand dispirited letters is one of the pany of evil spirits-of sea-side solitokens of a distempered frame. I tude and melancholy readings :blush to find by the packet of anxious I wish I had written no such foolnotes and tender enquiries, lately re- ery. Do you know, Russell, that a ceived from your family, that I have few morning rambles on the beach, furnished them a messenger of alarm and a few early excursions in the and disquiet, by my last brief but fishing boats, gave my feelings a tedious epistle from the country. new life on the instant, and made me When women are ill, they bear their better and blither than I ever in my sufferings with silence and patience, life remember to have been. I arose but the moment we masters of the with the sun (no common trick of creation are nipped by ailments, we mine); and while the sky was yet lose no time in hallooing to the world white, and the cold brisk waves came about our agony and magnanimity— shuddering in with a green gloom and in writhing before visitors like upon the beach,- I scrambled into giants in pain. I am sorry to say, one of the old black fishing boatsmy dear Russell, that experience and oh, how bravely did we spread daily proves to me, that in all great the brown sail on the graceless pole things we men are frightfully little of a mast, and dance off to our proand that it is the weaker sex that fitable sport! I assisted in putting rise with the difficulties of the time, out the nets -I assisted in managing and that display unaffected great- the boat-1 assisted in the pulling in. ness and power, in the moments of Suchflapping and flashing in the light! anguish, disappointment, or despair. --such tossing and breaking of waves! I gave to your sister the other day We would return before the day was a melancholy report of myself-hinted warm-and I relished my breakfast at declining health and decaying with part of the spoils. Sometimes, Vol. VI.