« السابقةمتابعة »
the piece is sent as a contribution to the Keepsake, where its demerits may be hidden amid the beauties of more
valuable articles." The Keepsake, for 1830. Edited by Frederick Mansel Reynolds. London. Hurst, Chance, & Co., and R. of Aspen,” may be stated in a few words.
The plot of this tragedy, which is entitled “ The House Jennings. 8vo, pp. 352.
Baron of Aspen, an old German warrior, is married to This is the most costly of all the Annuals. It sells for Isabella, and by her has two sons, George and Henry. a guinea, and the others for twelve shillings. It ought, Isabella, when very young, bad been married against her therefore, to be superior to any of them, and this year we will to Arnolf of Ebersdorf, and it was not till his death think it is. The embellishments, of which there are that she was able to espouse her first love, Rudiger. At eighteen, including the presentation plate, are truly beauti- the commencement of the drama, we find the old Baron ful; and the literary contents, especially in so far as re- confined, by a recent accident, to his castle, while his sons, gards the prose, are highly interesting, and of much in George and Henry, are in the field against their neightrinsic merit. The illustrations we shall not at present bour, Roderic, Count of Maltingen, the hereditary enemy stop to describe, being well aware that any description of the House of Aspen. They give him battle, and recould but feebly convey to the reader the pleasure to be turn victorious, to the great joy of their father, and the derived from the actual contemplation of works of art so no less joy of his piece, Gertrude, who is betrothed to splendid and select. Wilkie's picture, however, of the Henry, the younger of the brothers. George, however, " Princess Doria washing the feet of the Pilgrims,” we notwithstanding his success, brings back with him a heamust barely mention; as also “ The Bride," by Leslie, vy heart, for his attendant, Martin, having been severely the “ Widow of Ems,” by Deveria, and the “ Prophet of wounded in the fight, and imagining himself at the point St Paul's," by Chalon, chefs-d'æuvre which would reflect of death, had informed him that Arnolf, his mother's credit on any age or country. With the last, in particular, first husband, had not died in the common course of na- : we are charmed to an extraordinary degree. Much as ture, but had been carried off by poison administered to we have admired some of Chalon's works, we did not bim by Isabella herself through the agency of Martin. think he was able to produce any thing so fine as this. Laden with this terrible secret, and scarcely knowing The female figure is almost perfect in its loveliness, and whether to believe it or not, especially when he considered contrasts with the Black Page and the old Astrologer, both the character for sanctity and good deeds which his moexquisitely conceived, in a manner too delightful ever to ther bad acquired, George seeks an interview with her, be forgotten after being once seen. Charles Heath has and, after an interesting and well-wrought scene, becomes bestowed all his labour upon the engraving, and every one convinced of his mother's guilt. Meantime, Martin had knows, that when Charles Heath labours, it is with al- been taken prisoner by Roderic, the hostile chief, who also, most unequalled delicacy of touch, and invariably with through this means, becomes acquainted with Isabella's an effect and a success correspondent.
crime. The knowledge at once points out to him a method The first article in the volume is a Tragedy in prose, by which he might be effectually revenged upon the House by Sir Walter Scott, which is of itself enough to secure of Aspen for its late successes. Roderic is an influential the success of the work. In a short prefatory notice, Sir member of the Invisible Tribunal—a secret association of Walter informs us, that this tragedy was written nearly a very dangerous kind, which then existed in Germany, thirty years ago, and was modelled upon the German and of which George of Aspen was likewise a member. school of dramatic writing, which at that time had be- One of the rules of this association was, that its members come fashionable, in consequence of the impression which bound themselves by most solemn oaths to conceal from the productions of Goethe and Schiller had made upon the the Tribunal no crime whatever which might come to British public. The story was partly taken from a Ger- their knowledge, though perpetrated by those who were man romance, but the scenes and incidents were much nearest and dearest to them. The penalty of concealment altered. It was at oue time on the point of being pro- was death ; and where there was no concealınent, the duced at Drury Lane, when John Kemble and his sister, person accused was dragged before those secret avengers, Mes Siddons, would have supported the principal parts; tried, and, if found guilty, execated on the spot. Roderic, bat some doubts whether the plot was such as to secure therefore, loses no time in summoning a meeting of the its success with an English audience ultimately prevent- Tribunal, imagining that he would thus have both George ed its representation, and it has lain in neglect and obscu- in his power, who could scarcely be expected to denounce rity ever since. “Very lately,” says Sir Walter, “the his mother, and Isabella also, who, through the evidence writer chanced to look over the scenes of this work, with of Martin, could easily be convicted. As soon as George feelings very different from those of the adventurous pe- received the summons to attend the meeting, he perceived riod of his literary life during which they had been writ- its object, and that his only chance of saving his mother ten, and yet with such as perhaps a reformed libertine depended on his being previously able to get the witness ' might regard the illegitimate production of an early amour. Martin out of the hands of Roderic. With this view be There is something to be ashamed of certainly; but, after dispatches a minstrel, who had lately come to the castle all, paternal vanity whispers that the child has a resem- of Aspen, and who, by changing his dress with Martin, blance to the father." “ Being of too small a size or con- and remaining himself in his stead, succeeds in enabling sequence,” he modestly adds, " for a separate publication, the former to effect his escape. Roderic is, of cour
much exasperated when he discovers the stratagem, and, Eldest Mem. Our voice is, that the perjured brother in his rage, he explains to the minstrel the reason why merits death. Martin's rescue was so much wished for by the house of
Rod. Accuser, thou hast heard the voice of the assembly;
name the criminal, Aspen, The minstrel is thunderstruck, and declares bim
Accuser. George, Baron of Aspen. (A murmur in the self to be Bertram of Ebersdorf, brother to Isabella's first
assembly.) husband, and that he had assumed the disguise of a min- A Member (suddenly rising.) I am ready, according to strel, in consequence of his having incurred the displea- our holy laws, to swear, by the steel and the cord, that sure of the Government. He now announces his inten-George of Aspen merits not this accusation, and that it is tion to Roderic to attend the approaching meeting of the
a foul calumny. Invisible Tribunal, and do all in his power to aid in re
Accuser. Rash man! gagest thou an oath so lightly? venging the murder of his brother.
It is here that the of innocence and virtue.
Member. I gage it not lightly. I proffer it in the cause fourth act closes, and the catastrophe is wound up in the
Accuser. What if George of Aspen should not himself fifth, at the meeting of the Tribunal. We shall extract a deny the charge? part of this ably-executed scene :
Member. Then would I never trust man again.
Accuser. Hear him, then, bear witness against himself.
(Throws back his mantle.) The subterranean chapel of the Castle of Griefenhaus. It Rod. Baron George of Aspen ! seems deserted, and in decay. There are four entrances, Geo. The same-prepared to do penance for the crime of each defended by an iron portal. At each door stands a which he stands sell-accused. warder, clothed in black, and masked, armed with a nakerl Rod. Still, canst thou disclose the name of the criminal sword. During the whole scene they remain motionless whom thou hast rescued from justice: on that condition on their posts. In the centre of the chapel is the ruinous alone, thy brethren may save thy life. altar, half sunk in the ground, on which lie a large book, Geo. Tbinkest thou I would betray, for the safety of my a dagger, and a coil of ropes, beside two lighted tapers. life, a secret I have preserved at the breach of my word?Antique stone benches of different heights around the cha- No! I have weighed the value of my obligation-I will pel. In the back scene is seen a dilapidated entrance into not discharge it-but most willingły will I pay the penalty ! the Sacristy, which is quite dark.
Rod. Retire, George of Aspen, till the assembly proVarious members of the Invisible Tribunal enter by the four nounce jusłyment.
different doors of the chapel. Each whispers something as Geo. Welcome be your sentence I am weary of your he passes the warder, which is answered by an inclination yoke of iron. A light beams on my soul. Woe to those of the head. The costume of the members is a long black who seek Justice in the dark haunts of mystery and cruel. robe capable of mufjling the face : some wear it in this ty! She dwells in the broad blaze of the sun, and Mercy manner; others have their faces uncovered, unless on the is ever by ber side. Woe to those who would advance the entrance of a stranger : they place themselves in profound general weal by trampling upon the social affections ! they silence upon the stone benches.
aspire to be more than men--they shall become worse than Enter Count Roderic dressed in a scarlet cloak of the tigers. I go: better for me your altars should be stained
same form with those of the other members. He takes his with my blood, than my soul blackened with your crimes. place on the most elevated bench.
(Erit George by the ruinous d.or in the back scene, into Rod. Warders, secure the doors! (The doors are barred
the Sacristy.) with great care.)
Rod. Brethren, sworn upon the steel, and upon the cord, Rod. Herald, do thy duty! (Members all rise—Herald to judge and to avenge in secret, without favour and withstands by the altar.) Herald. Members of the Invisible Tribunal, who judge self-accused of perjury, and resistance to the laws of our fra
out pity, what is your judgment upon George of Aspen, in secret and avenge in secret, like the Deity, are your ternity? (Long and earnest murmurs in the assembly.) hearts free from malice, and your hands from blood-guilti
Rod. Speak your doom. ness? (All the Members incline their heads.) Rod. God pardon our sins of ignorance, and preserve us jured-the penalty of perjury is death!
Eldest Mem. George of Aspen has declared himself perfrom those of presumption ! ( Again the Members solemnly Rod. Father of the Secret Judges eldest among those incline their heads. )
who avenge in secret-tahe to thee the steel and the cord; Her. To the east, and to the west, and to the north, and let the guilty no longer cumber the land. to the south, I raise my voice ; wherever there is treason, Eldest Mem. I ain fourscore and eight years old. My wherever there is blood-guiltiness, wherever there is sacri
eyes are dim, and my hand is teeble; soon shall I be called lege, sorcery, robbery, or perjury, there let this curse alight, to the throne of my Creator. How shall I stand there, and pierce the marrow and the bone. Raise, then, your stained with the blood of such a man? voices, and say with me, Woe! woe! unto offenders !
Rod. How wilt thou stand before that throne, loaded All. Woe! woe! (Members sit down.) Her. He who knoweth of an unpunished crime, let him nal be upon us and ours !
with the guilt of a broken oath? The blood of the crimistand forth, as bound by his oath when his hand was laid Eldesi Mem. So be it, in the name of God! upon the dagger and upon the cord, and call to the assem- (He takes the dagger from the altar, goes slowly towards bly for vengeance.
the back scene, and reluctantly enters the Sacristy.) Member. (Rises, his face covered.) Vengeance! Vep
Eldest Judge. (From behind the scene)-Dost thou forgeance! Vengeance! Rod. Upon whom dost thou invoke vengeance?
Geo. (Behind).- I do! (He is heard to fall hearily.) docuser. Upon a brother of this order, who is forsworn
(Re-enter the old Judge from the Sacristy. He lays on and perjured to its laws.
the altar the bloody dagger.) Rod. Relate his crime.
Rod. Hast tbou done thy duty ? Accuser. This perjured brother was sworn, upon the Eldest Mem. I have. (He faints.) steel and upon the cord, to denounce malefactors to the Rod. He swoons-remove him. judgment-seat from the four quarters of heaven, though it
(He is assisted off the stage. During this, four meme were the spouse of his heart, or the son whom he loved as
bers enter the Sacristy, and bring out a bier covered the apple of his eye; yet did he conceal the guilt of one who with a pall, which they place on the steps of the altar. was dear unto him; he folded up the crime from the know- A deep silence.) Jedge of the Tribunal; he removed the evidence of guilt, and withdrew the criminal from justice. What does his secret, like the Deity, God keep your thoughits from evil,
Rod. Judges of evil, dooming in secret, and avenging in perjury deserve?
and your hands from guilt!" Rod. Accuser, come before the altar; lay thy hand upon the dagger and the cord, and swear to the truth of thy ac- Isabella is afterwards brought in and accused by Bercusation.
tram. Accuser. (His hand on the altar.) I swear!
Finding that there is no hope of escape, she stabs Rod. Wilt thou take upon thyself the penalty of perjury ted by the Tribunal on the old Baron Rudiger, are inter
herself and dies. Further cruelties, about to be perpetrashould it be found false ? Secuser. I will
rupted by the arrival of the Duke of Bavaria, who baRod. Brethren, what is your sentence? (The Members nishes Roderie and Bertram from the empire; and the confer a moment in whispersua silence.)
i reader being allowed to suppose that Henry will ultia
miately be married to Gertrude, both of whom are subor- Athenian world. The circulars are arrived, and circuladinate characters, the play concludes.
ting like the vortices (or vortex's) of Descartes. Still I have As to the merits of this composition, it will be evident, a due care of the needful, and keep a Inok-out a-head. As my even from the brief sketch we have now given, that it is with all inen's who have lived to see that every guinea is a
notions upon the score of moneys coinci le with yours, and entirely German, both in its conception and execution. philosopher's stone, or at least his touchstone, you will By this we mean that the truth and simplicity of nature oubt me the less when I pronounce my firm belief that are rendered subordinate to strong effect and strange situ- cash is virtue. I cannot reproach myself with much experidation, and that, for the sake of presenting a sort of meta- iture, my only extra expense (and it is more than I have physical puzzle in the character of Isabella, whom we spent upon myself) being a loan of two hundred and tilty cannot help liking, though she is a murderess, all probabi- I have bought him, and a boat which I am building for
and fifty pounds' worth of furniture which lity is disregarded. There is a morbid gloom cast over the whole production, which is disagreeable, because it is myself at Genoa, which will cost about a hundred pounds not like human life. At the same time, we readily grant • But to return. I am determined to have all the mothat this is the fault of the school from which Sir Walter neys I can, whether by my own funds, or succession, or Scott borrowed, and it was a fault which, under the cir- lawsuit, or MSS., or any lawful means whatever. I will cumstances, he could not avoid. In other respects, the pav (thvugh with the sincerest reluctance) my remaining play is well conceived, and the individual scenes are spi- creditors, and every man of law, by instalments, froin the ritedly filled up. It would act well, and we are quite in Mr Hanson's letter, on the demand of moneys for the
my arbitrators. I recommend to you the notice sure that, considering the present reputation of its author, Rochdale tolls. Above all, I recommend my interests to any manager who brings it upon the stage, will find the
your honourable worship. Recollect, too, that I expert speculation a highly profitable one.
We believe it was some moneys for the various MSS., (no matter what ;) and, stated, in the case of Lord Byron's tragedies, that no in- in short, • Rem, quocunque modo, Rem!' The noble feeljanetion could be granted against the performance of any ing of cupidity grows upon us with our years. published play ; and why, therefore, might not the mana
“ Yours ever and truly,
“ Noel Byron." ger of the Theatre Royal here commence his winter campaign in November with this tragedy? He may depend
“ Genoa, November, 1822. upon it, it would have a run. There is abımdance of
“ My Dear I have finished the twelfth canto of melo-dramatic interest, and the fact of its being by Sir Don Juan, which I will forward when copied. With the Walter Scott would fill the house for many nights. The sixth, seventh, and eighth in one volume, and the ninth,
tenth, eleventh, and twelfth in another, the whole may parts, too, could be exceedingly well cast with his present form two volumes, ot about the same size as the two tormer. company. Murray bimselt should play the old Baron, There are some good things in them, as perhaps may be alRutiger; Miss Jarman or Mrs H. Siddons, Isabella ; Van- lowed. Perhaps one volume had better be published with denhoff or Barton, George of Aspen ; Denham, Roderic; one publisher, and the other with another; it would be a Montague Stanley, Henry, and the other interior parts new experiment: or one in one month, and another in the
What thinkest thou? Murray, could be well filled up. This is worth thinking of either next, or both at once. here or in London ; but to get the start is the great thing. (guineas ) a-canto for as many as I might choose to write.
long after the “piracies,' offered me a thousand pounds The article next in interest in the Keepsuke, consists He has since departed from this proposal, for it was too of nine unpublished Letters of Lord Byron, the three inuch, and I would not take advantage of it. You must, last of wbich are from Greece. We shall select the two however, use your own judgment with regard to the MSS., we like most, which were written from Italy, and are and let me know what you propose; presuming always principally upon literary topies :
what may at least be but a presumption that the seven new cantos are, on the whole, equal to the five former. Supe
pose Hunt, or somebody else, were to publish one canto a
“ Pisa, Feb. 6, 1822. week, upon the same size and paper, to correspond with the "My Dear - Try back the deep lane,' till we find various former editions ? but this is merely as a vision, and a publisher for the · Vision;' and if none such is to be found, may be very foolish, for aught I know. I have read the deprint tifty copies at my expense, distribute them amongst | fence of Cain, which is very good; who can be the author? my acquaintance, and you will soon see that the booksellers As to myselt, I shall not be deterred by any outcry; your will publish them even if we opposed them. That they are present public bate me, but they shall not interrupt the now afraid is natural ; but I do not see that I ought to give march of my mind, nor prevent me from telling those who way on that account. I know nothing of Rivington's are attempting to trample on all thought, that their thrones
Remonstrance,' by the Eminent Churchman;' but I shall yet be rocked to their foundations. It is Madame de Suppose he wants a living. I once heard of a preacher at Stael who says, “that all talent has a propensity to attack Kentish Town against · Cain.' The same outcry was raised the strong. I have never flattered—whether it be or be not against Priestley, Hume, Gibbon, Voltaire, and all the a proof of talent. men who dared to put tithes to the question.
“ I have just spen the illustrious, who came to visi. • I have got —'s pretended replý, to which I am sur- tate me here. I had not seen him these ten years. He had prised that you do not allude. What remains to be done, is a black wig, and has been made a knight for writing against to call him out. The question is, would he come ? For, if the Queen. He wants a diplomatic situation, and seems he would not, the whole thing would appear ridiculous, if likely to want it. He found me thinner even than in 1813; I were to take a long and expensive journey to no purpose. for since my late illness at Lerici, in my way here, I have You must be my second, and, as such, I wish to consult subsided into my more meagre outline, and am obliged to you. I apply to you as one well versed in the duello or Mo- be very abstinent, by medical advice, on account of liver nomachie. Of course, I shall come to England as privately and what not. Bat to the point, or, at least, my point, in as possible, and leave it (sapposing that I was the survivor) mentioning this new chevalier. Ten years ago
1 leut bim in the same mander, having no other object which could a thousand pounds, on condition that he would not go to bring me to that country except to settle quarrels accumu. the Jews. Now, as Mr is a purchaser of bonds, will lated during my absence.
he purchase this of me? or will any budy else, at a discount? * By the last post [ transmitted to you a letter upon " I have been invited by the Americanis on board of their some Rochdale toll business, from which there are moneys squadron bere, and received with the greatest kindness, and in prospect. My agent says two thousand pounds, but sup rather too much ceremony. They bave asked me to sit for posing it to be only one, or even one hundred, still they be my picture to an American artist now in Florence. As I moneys, and I have lived long enough to have an exceeding was preparing to depart, an American lady took a rose respect for the smallest current coin of any realm, or the which I wore from me, and said th t she wish:d to send least sum, wvbich, although I may not want it myself,
may something which I had about me to America. They showdo something for others who may need it inore than I. They ed ine two American editions of my poems, and all kinds of say that knowledge is power,' -I used to think so; but i attention and good-will. I also hear that, as an author, I now know that they meant money :' and when Socrates am in high request in Germany. All this is some compendeclared, that all he knew was, that he knew nothing,' he sation for the desertion of the English. Would you write merely intended to declare, that he had not « dmuchm iu the a German line to Goethe fór me, explaining the omission
TWO LETTERS BY LORD BYROX.
THE FALSE RHYME.
of the dedication to Sardanapalus,' by the fault of the pub- fact, that she had escaped from France, bearing her jewels , lisher, and asking his permission to pretix it to the forth with her, and accompanied by her page Robinet Leroux, coming volume of Werner and the Mystery?
It was whispered, that during their journey the lady and “ Are you quite well yet? I hope so. I am selling two the stripling often occupied one chamber ; and Margaret, more horses, and dismissing two superfluous servants. My enraged at these discoveries, commanded that no further horses now amount to four, instead of nine ; and I have ar- quest should be made for her lost favourite. ranged my establishment on the same footing. So you per- Taunted now by her brother, she defended Emilie, de ceive that I am in earnest in my frugalities.
claring that she believed her to be guiltless; even going so “ Yours ever affectionately,
far as to boast, that within a month she would bring proof
“ Noel Byron." of her innocence. Of the prose tales in this volume, the three by Mrs
“ • Robinet was a pretty boy,' said Francis, laughing.
" " Let us make a bet,' cried Margaret : • If I lose, I will Shelley, the authoress of Frankenstein, appear to us the bear this vile rhyme of thine as a motto, to my shame, to my best. Theodore Hooke has contributed rather a dull and grave; if I win, commonplace story, called “ The Bride;" the author of “• I will break my window, and grant thee whatever “ Granby” an amusing “ Dialogue for the year 2130;" boon thou askest. whilst Lord Normanby, the authors of the “ O'Hara “ The result of this bet was long sung by troubadour and Tales," “ Anastasius,” the Hungarian Tales,” and minstrel. The Queen employed a bundred emissaries“ Hajji Baba,” have all supplied respectable stories. We published rewards for any intelligence of Emilie-all in
vain. The month was expiring, and Margaret would have prefer selecting, as a specimen, one of Mrs Shelley's, which given many bright jewels to redeem her word. On the ere has the advantage of being at once short and prettily told: of the fatal day, the jailor of the prison in which the Sire de
Lagny was contined, sought an audience of the Queen ; he
brought her a message from the knight to say, that if the By the Author of " Frankenstein.”
Lady Margaret would ask his pardon as her boon, and ob"Come, tell me where the maid is found
tain from her royal brother that he might be brought beWhose heart can love without deceit?
fore him, her bet was won. Fair Margaret was very joyAnd I will range the world around
ful, and readily made the desired promise. Francis was To sigh one inoment at her feet.”
unwilling to see his false servant, but he was in high goodTHOMAS Moore.
humour, for a cavalier bad that morning brought intelli“ On a fine July day, the fair Margaret, Queen of Na- gence of a victory over the Imperialists. The messenger varre, then on a visit to her royal brother, had arranged a himself was lauded in the dispatches, as the most fearless rural feast for the morning following, which Francis de- and bravest knight in France. The King loaded him with clined attending. He was melancholy; and the cause was presents, only regretting that a vow prevented the soldier said to be some lover's-quarrel with a favourite dame. The from raising his visor, or declaring his name. morrow came, and dark rain and murky clouds destroyed at “ That same evening, as the setting sun shone on the latonce the schemes of the courtly throng. Margaret was tice on which the ungallant rhyme was traced, Francis reangry, and she grew weary: her only hope for amusement posed on the same settee; and the beautiful Queen of Nawas in Francis, and he had shut himselt up-an excellent varre, with triumph in her bright eyes, sat beside him. Atreason why she should the more desire to see him. She en- tended by guards, the prisoner was brought in; his frame tered his apartment: he was standing at the casement, was attenuated by privation, and he walked with tottering against which the noisy shower beat, writing with a dia- steps. He knelt at the feet of Francis, and uncovered his mond on the glass. Two beautiful dogs were his sole com- bead; a quantity of rich golden hair, then escaping, fell panions. As Queen Margaret entered, he hastily let down over the sunken cheeks and pallid brow of the suppliant. the silken curtain before the window, and looked a little • We have treason here,' cried the King : Sir Jailor, where confused.
is your prisoner?' “What treason is this, my liege,' said the Queen, which . • Sire, blame him not,' said the soft, faltering voice of crimsons your cheek? I must see the same.
Emilie, wiser men than he have been deceived by woman. « • It is treuson,' replied the King; and, therefore, My dear lord was guiltless of the crime for which he sufsweet sister, thou mayest not see it.'
fered. There was but one mode to save him. I assumed • This the more excited Margaret's curiosity, and a play- his chains-he escaped with poor Robinet Leroux in my atful contest ensued : Francis at last yielded : he threw him- tire-he joined your army: the young and gallant cavalier self on a huge high-backed settee; and as the lady drew who delivered the dispatches to your grace, whom you back the curtain with an arch smile, he grew grave and sen- overwhelmed with honours and reward, is my own Enguertimental, as he reflected on the cause which had inspired rard de Lagny. I waited but for his arrival with testimohis libel against all womankind.
nials of his innocence, to declare myself to my lady, the “• What have we here?' cried Margaret : 'nay, this is queen. Has she not won her bet? And the boon she asks. lêse-majesté
“ Is De Lagny's pardon,' said Margaret, as she also • Souvent femme varie,
knelt to the king : Spare your faithful vassal, sire, and Bien fou qui s'y fie!'
reward this lady's truth.' Very little change would greatly amend your couplet :-raised the ladies from their supplicatory posture.
“ Francis first broke the false-speaking window, then he Would it not run better thus?
“ In the tournament given to celebrate this · Triumph • Souvent homme varie,
of Ladies,' the Sire de Lagny bore off every prize ; and Bien folle qui s'y fie!
surely there was more loveliness in Emilie's faded cheek, I could tell you twenty stories of man's inconstancy.'
more grace in her emaciated form,
type as they were of " I will be content with one true tale of woman's fideli. truest affection, than in the prouder bearing and fresher ty,' said Francis dryly; - but do not provoke me. I would complexion of the most brilliant beauty in attendance on fain be at peace with the soft Mutabilities, for thy dear sake.' | the courtly festival !"
« • I defy your grace,' replied Margaret rashly, to instance the falsehood of one noble and well-reputed dame.'
In the poetical department, the Keepsake for 1830 is « « Not even Emilie de Lagny?' asked the King.
not so good as that for 1829, and is decidedly inferior to “ This was a sore subject for the Queen. Emilie had the Souvenir. The editor, Mr Mansel Reynolds, has been brought up in her own household, the most beautiful wisely excluded any of his own verses ; but he seems and the most virtuous of her maids of honour. She bad moreover to be an indifferent judge of poetry, and he has, long loved the Sire de Laguy, and their nuptials were cele besides, been evidently anxious to have as many titled brated with rejoicings but little ominous of the result. De names as possible in his list of contributors, which was, Lagny was accused but a year after of traitorously yielding of itself, enough to knock the poetry of his book on the to the Emperor a fortress under his command, and he was
ad. condemned to perpetual imprisonment. For some time
Lords Porchester, Holland, Morpeth, and NuEmilie seemed inconsolable, often visiting the miserable gent, and Messieurs the Honourable George Agar Ellis dungeon of her husband, and suffering, on her return from Charles Phipps, and Henry Liddell, may keep, for aught witnessing his wretchedness, such paroxysins of grief as
we know to the contrary, excellent French cooks, and be threatened bör life. Suddenly, in the midst of her sorrow, the most desirable acquaintances in the world; but Mr slie disappeared'; and enquiry only divulged the disgraceful Mansel Reynolds has committed a grievous fault in al
lowing either himself or them to be seduced into the be- of the people at present, the connexion which their hislief that they can write poetry. In the Keepsake for tory and literature bave with our hopes and fears, our 1929, Coleridge has a splendid poem; in the Keepsake for comfort here and our happiness hereafter, together with 1830, he has a silly extempore song of six lines. It was the more ordinary considerations of an interesting descarcely, however, to be expected that the poetry would velopement of human character-all these considerations be equal to the prose, which, as we have already said, is bear directly and immediately upon the general reader and of a very superior order, and will, along with the embel the devoted Christian; but when professional consideralishments, carry the Keepsake over all Great Britain, tions are taken into account, and an order of men is reIreland, France, Germany, Italy, and America.
ferred to, whose duty it is to make their fellow-men ac
quainted with the full import and force of the ancient Antiquities of the Jews, carefully compiled from Authentic Jewish writings, it is then that a consideration of high
Sources, and their Customs illustrated from Modern import becomes one of cogency and downright necessity. Travels. By William Brown, D. D. Eskdalemuir. rather than a delight, a toil rather than a pleasure, yet still
Were, then, the study of Jewish antiquities really a task 21 Edition. Waugh and Innes. Edinburgh. 1829. it is a study incumbent upon Christians in general
, and 2 vols. 8vo. Pp. 622 and 686.
doubly so upon ministers in particular; but when the A KNOWLEDGE of antiquities is essential to an under- omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci,” above restanding of national literature. The latter, without the ferred to, is taken into account and we are assured that former, is an enigma without the key—a series of refer- a more fascinating, as well as improving study, cannot be ences, without the objects and circumstances referred to. pointed out—it is then that the inducement is fully vinWho can read Burns with understanding, without being dicated, and we are called upon to recognise, with gratiacquainted with the habits and manners, with the “an- tude and affection, every pen whose aim is to facilitate our tiquities," of the people whose sentiments he expresses ? acquaintance with so sacred and so elevating a subject. But if this hold true in a living, it is doubly certain in a Under these impressions we approach these two bulky dead language, or in one, at least, which is dead to the volumes, containing a mass of information and illustrareader. The literature of Greece and Rome can only be tion never before brought together, and couched in lanmade intelligible by a careful and a constant reference to guage the most simple and unassuming possible. It is their antiquities. In other words, ere one can under- indeed refreshing and worthy of remark, to observe a stand and feel the import of Livy or Horace, he must country clergyman, in the retirements of a remote and have been dipped in the Tiber—he must have been con- pastoral district, and amidst the useful and successful disveyed to Rome, and having unwoven the web of time charge of every-day duties, still finding leisure and books several centuries back, he must see as the Romans then for the conducting, to a most creditable termination, a saw, know what the Romans then knew, and, what is work of many years of labour. We are not unacquainted the most difficult, but most important point of all, he with the features and character of Eskdalemuir, or of that must feel as the Romans then felt. “ Omne tulit punc- “ master spirit” by which its peculiar features are so cortum," says Horace. “ He every point hath made to meet,” rectly perceived and felt; nor can we deny ourselves the says his translator, without touching at all upon the idea gratification of thinking that we do, in some degree, apsuggested. Before this little sentence can be apprehend- preciate the delight which must have accompanied the ed, the reader must take a walk into the “ Campus Mar- study of such a subject in such a spot. Judea, with its tius,” be present at a meeting of the people by centuries, mountains and floods_its precipices, decayed walls, and and observe the scribe or clerk as he dots every vote of mighty impressions of the divine hand-may be imagined, every century in his book of reference. “I to the hills without any violence of fancy, out of those towering ridges will lift mine eyes," says or sings the Presbyterian wor- and rushing streams—those green passes, in particular, shipper; and he adds to his strain,
and artificial ramparts, which hespeak the power and
glory of a people, the marks of whose presence fifteen " The moon by night thee shall not smite,
hundred years have been unable to obliterate. And we Nor yet the sun by day;"
look, not without some glimmering of hope, to the same but before he can fully and feelingly apprehend the mean- | industry and discrimination which have produced this ing of these lines, he must be removed, in imagination, useful work, for a treatise on “ Roman Antiquities in at least, to Judea, and under her day and her night, her Scotland”—a task for which our author's previous stumountain-land, apprehend the expressions made use of. dies, his local position, as well as his acquired knowledge,
The voice of one crying in the wilderness, prepare ye eminently fit him. the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a high- From a work of upwards of twelve hundred large and way for our God. Every valley shall be exalted, and closely-printed octavo pages, it would be inexpedient, in every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the a Journal of this character, to attempt extracts. Even crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places an enumeration of the various and well-arranged contents plain.” So says the prophet Isaiah ; and ere his language is beyond our limits; but we must say, that the latter porcan be felt in all its force and beauty, the reader must be tion, containing “ the Customs of the Jews,” is peculiarly transported from the west to the east-from the nine- deserving of attention. In this part, the author has been at teenth century after, to the nineteenth century before, the great pains, and is exceedingly successful, to illustrate and Christian era ; and must perceive, that to make way for corroborate the notices of antiquity by those of modern the march of an earthly potentate —a Semiramis or travellers. Hesiod, Homer, Thucydides, and Herodotus, -Xerxes—precipices are dug down and hollows filled up, amongst the ancients, flanked by an innumerable list of mountains are levelled, and forests and brushwood clear- modern names, come beautifully in corroboration of Isaiah, ed away. The study, then, of antiquities is, in fact, the David, and Solomon. Were we disposed to cavil, we study of the people, in all their bearings upon our com- might perhaps find materials in vol. ii. p. 31, where the mon nature, in all their modifications under climate, ter- influence of Astarte, the Queen of Heaven, on the wearitory, civil institutions, and domestic interests. This ther and the Tides, is said to have induced the Caknowledge being once acquired, history flows on in an naanites to pay her homage; as well as in the fanciful uninterrupted stream, with its motives and events, and lucubrations from page 412 ; and in the author's making poetry possesses the power of deriving interest from a the upper side of the lower millstone concave, whilst the thousand fountains which would otherwise be sealed. lower side of the upper was convex-—p. 641. But we have
The antiquities of the Jews possess a claim upon our no taste for picking chaff from well-cleaned grain—"Ubi attention of a decidedly superior cast. The authenticity plurima nitent, haud ego," &c. We can most conscientiousof the more ancient records, the character and bearing ly recommend Dr Brown's work, as containing what it