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One moment, gentlemen! What do you take me for,' Moutonnet, more successful; he is dismissed, and Eu- • A chaise! two if it is necessary.' How many borses?' cried Bidois, trying to seize the door ; • I am a citizen genie locked up in her chamber. The wedding.day ap- *How many can you put to?' • Two, three, or four, as you of Paris; I have engaged this coach, and I have paid proaches. "M. Dupont bad already made his purchases. like.' •J'll have five then; and you had better put them for it, and it is mine; you cannot take it.'
He had hought the wedding present, into which he all one before the other, that they may run the faster.' we can, for we are in it.'. *You inust get out, gen. insisted on thrusting some pacquets of Bayonne chocolate, 'It would be impossible to drive them, sir. Put them tlemen. Coachman! explain it to the gentlemen.' and páté de guimauve. Eight days beforehand he ordered all abreast, then.'..Why, sir, then we could not fasten The coachman, encbanted to have got another fare, an entire suit of clothes for himself; he engaged bis per- them to the coach.' Well, put them how you like; contented bimself with mounting his box without ruquier to invent something new for his head; he pur. I don't care how they go, provided they go like the answering poor Bidois, who ran backwards and chased some new trinkets for bis watches, which, with the wind.'. • Will you have two postillions?' Three, and forwards from the coachman to the door. • This old ones, made such a noise, that he could be heard a a courier to go before. My wife is waiting for me, and old fool will stun us with his poise,' said one of the hundred yards off, so that every one drew out of his way, I am in baste.' The chaise, postillions, courier, all officers. 'Gentlemen, you must get out of my coach. thinking that it was a horse with bells. M. Dupont was come to the door. He jumps in. Such an extraordinary • What, give up the coach to you? My fine fellow, enchanted at making such a sensation, and he smiled turn-out puzzles the neighbours. Is it a prince inif do I get out, it will be to crop your ears. Come, at all the world, and all the world smiled at him.” cognito? an ambassador ? a general? or any other great coachman, we are in a hurry, and can't stay listening to He engages more rooms over the shop he occupies, to man ?'—Who is it, postillions?' They answer, .It this drunken fellow!' 'All right, sir.' And the coach enlarge his apartment; and takes into his service Jean- is a wholesale grocer going to his wife.' Dupont man applied the whip to his cattle. Bidois went and neton, who has been dismissed by Madame Moutonnet, pays like a prince, and his courier announces his arrival sat down on a post, viewing with an air of consterna- being suspected, with reason, of favouring the younger at the inns with great importance. The innkeepers tion, the coach which had taken his dollar, and left him lover. Jeanneton has the address to persuade Dupont, make great preparations. Fires crackle, spits turn, all in the middle of the street. At last he got home, and that she has left her place for the sake of following her the saucepans are on the stoves, and the scullions at went to bed without a light, lest in getting one he should young mistress. At length, the wedding-day has po- their places ; the servants hasten to prepare a room for be stopped by Madame Moutonnet, still to do something sitively come. “From five o'clock in the morning Du
the illustrious traveller. A man wbo has a courier pont was beside himself; he had bathed and scrubbed does not dine at the common table, and, as he does not Adolphe and Eugenie bad sworn eternal fidelity. himself nobly, and settled his head-dress. He walked stop the night, they must repay themselves for it in the Their vows, however, did not preserve Adolphe (who is up and down, from room to room, all about his lodging; dinner-bill. The sound of horses and whips announces a sort of Tom Jones,) from the perseverance of a young be ran backwards and forwards between bis shop and the arrival of the great man. The master, cap in hand, dancer, nor Eugenie from maternal tyranny. One his looking-glass, now calling upon Jeanneton, now goes out to receive him. The maids adjust their morning, Madame Moutonnet came into her daughter's upon his shop-boys, to assist him at the one or the dress, the ostlers quit their horses, the travellers fill the room, and informed ber that M. Dupont was to break- other ; for the first time in his life, perhaps, he forgot windows from the top to the bottom of the house, the fast with them, desiring her to pay particular attention to the price of sugar and coffee. What with going and peasants and idlers of the town flock about the gate. her toilette. The foreboding girl dresses slowly, delay- coming, and running about, the grocer managed to get Dupont alights, and his unmajestic figure surprises ing as long as possible ber appearance in the breakfast- over the time, till it became necessary for him to put the assembled gazers. He insists on taking a hasty
Ai length she dares delay no longer. Her pa- on his new suit; black coat, waistcoat, and small snack in the outer room. • If, my lor— Monsieur rents' and M. Dupont are already there. “Come in, clothes, white silk stockings and buckled shoes. Du- your greatness, would go into the inner room, where my child,' said Madame Moutonnet, perceiving Eugenie pont spread them all out before him, and stood for an there is a dinner laid out.' No occasion for so much trembling at the door ; 'Come in. M. Dupont, go and instant in admiration. Decidedly there is nothing trouble, my dear sir, I am very well here.' • Will give her your hand. • You are right, you are rigbt, wanting,' said he, applying bimself to the duty of put- Monsieur dine ? Why, I am hungry. The coach bas said M. Dupont, leaping to Eugenie, “ihat is wbat I ting them on. The coat and waistcoat do very well, but jolted me exceedingly, and that gives one an appetite. was going to do, when I saw Mademoiselle.' The the small-clothes are rather tight. 'Deuce!' said Dupont I think ! sbould like a morsel of something: • The grocer conducted Eugenie to a chair. She seated berseli kieking to stretch them a bit, “they pinch a little. My dinner of Monsieur the traveller is prepared.' 'Ah! without saying a word; but the frequent swelling of knees feel as if they were held in a vice! Certainly, Parbleu? There is no occasion for this ceremony. Let her bosom shewed that she awaited with anxiety the they set all the better for it; not a fold ; they fit like a me have a plate of potatoes and a bit of Gruyere cheese, result of this conference. Meantime her papa, who glove! The grocer calls Jeanneton and his appren- with half a bottle of wine.' -How, sir!" I ask you seemed to wish to say something, but did not dare to tices. How am I?''Superb, sir.' And the cut?' for a plate of potatoes, and some Gruyere, — but let it break into the conversation, contented himself with * Admirable.'. *You seem to have a little difficulty in be good, for I understand it ; if you have not not got coughing in different tones, and taking frequent pinches walking, sir,' said Jeanneton. * Ab! that is my small- any good, I can send you some famous cheese.'” At of snuff. Breakfast is served. Tben rain is talked of, clothes, but I hope they will be better when I have length the speed at which he travels, breaks down the then the fine weather, and then the trade of grocery ; a worn them a little; besides, I have no other black ones, coach. A bright idea strikes him. His courier is part of the conversation in which Dupont makes a fi- and one can't be married in yellow small-clothes. But, always in advance ; therefore horseback is quicker gure, taking occasion to make good use of brown sugar they suit me, don't they?' Admirably, sir,'
travelling than riding in a coach. He buys his courier's and pepper, and mixing it liberally with his discourse. At •Well, I am ready. Let's be off—my gloves ?-my horse, bools, spurs, and whip; and half citizen, half length Madame Moutonnet made a sign to her busband hat?-nosegay!-Are the three glass coaches at the courier, pursues his uxorious race to Paris. He finds to keep silence, and addressed Eugenie : “My child, door?' 'Yes, sir.' Have the coachmen nosegays ? horseback not so easy as he took it to be, and can you are now eighteen years of age, and your education Yes, sir..That's right.' Do they give them to the scarcely keep his seat. He soon loses a boot, then is completed; you know the duties of a counter, and, horses.' •Not commonly; but if you wish it, sir, some another, and at last poor Dupont and his horse jump thanks to my example, I think you understand the ma- can be fastened to their ears. Let'em ; it will be more down a quarry. This is a more tragical ending to the nagement of a home.' • Yes, certainly,' said M. bandsome, more brilliant. Faith, one is not married farce than the good-natured eccentric deserves. It Moutonnet; "she is quite able to manage'- Hush ! every day, and I wish my marriage to be talked of serves, however, to free Eugenie, who is, a year after, silence, if you please Monsieur Moutonnet. I early Joseph, run and buy some branches of orange flowers, united to Adolpbe Dalville, whose half-and-half atteninculcated in you principles of virtue and wisdom, wbich' and have them put to the horses' heads.' Yes, sir ; tions had disgusted bis other mistress so much, that he
- Madame,' said Bidois, (whose curiosity is excited and to their tails?' A bunch of amaranths to each obtained the dismissal he had already wished. Maby the appearance of mystery,) putting his bead into tail. I like to do things in grand style.'
dame Moutonnet is charmed at her daughter's marrying the room, 'I cannot exactly make up M. Dupuis' ac- Dupont is married to Eugenie. Meantime Adolphe a man of fortune ; and Bidois becomes his steward, and count.'
That will do, that will do, Bidois; we are has heard that his father is sick. He hastens to him, teaches his tenants arithmetic. busy ; I will look at it by-and-bye. Ob, very well.' and finds him in a consumption. At length the disease Bidois went away against his will; but he had bad time approaches a crisis, and Adolpbe watches over bim to see every body there, and that was something ; upon with the tenderest care. One night M. Dalville, feel
ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE. these premises he could employ himself in making con- ing easier, persuades bis son to seek a few hours repose. jectures. In short, my child,' continued Madame Long watching and exhaustion threw Adolphe into a Moutonnet, 'thanks to my care, you are in a condition to profound sleep, which lasted till late in the following
The tragical bistory which we give in our premarry, and you will prove yourself worthy of your day. What is his astonishment on waking to find his
sent number, has not so fixed and intense an air wiht mother.'- - Yes, my love, she will be worthy of you,' father's hand in his, but cold, and motionless. The it as the two in our last, but it is so very dramatic, said M. Moutonnet; I always
father has come to die by his sleeping son. Having that if Fate could be supposed to have an eye to such be silent, Monsieur Moutonnet? will you let me speak? buried his father, be relurns to Paris, where the news of results, we could fancy the circumstances to have taken I never saw you so talkative !– Nevertheless, my child, Eugenie's marriage drives him to despair. Soon after, place, purely in order that they might give a lesson from we should not yet perhaps have thought of marrying you. be hears news of an uncle who has died abroad, and
the stage. In truth, they have been dramatized more Seeing your youth, we should doubtless have waited left him a large fortune. In acts of benevolence, and than once, and, we believe, more than once told othersome years, if a brilliant and a solid offer had not been
new affections, be strives to forget his first love. Eu- wise; but the following is the best account of the story made for you.” Dupont, finding that he was now brought genie, though married to Dupont, and living in his we have met with. It is (with little variation) by the upon the carpet, rocked and fidgetted himself on his house, insists upon being her own mistress, and,
same author as furnished us with the case of Mr. Barchair, turned his eyes about after the most agreeable with Jeanneton’s assistance, who had already procured
nard and the Duke of Marlborough. We shall speak of fashion he could, playing all the while with the chains her a separate apartment, manages to preserve her
him by and bye ; - he was a sort of mystery himself. and trinkets of his two watches. Yes, my child, a fidelity to Adolphe, till the unexpected sight of her early
John Andrew Gordier, a respectable and wealthy inbrilliant offer has been made for you. The person who lover throws her into a daugerous illness. Dupont
habitant of Jersey in the early part of the eighteenth seeks you in marriage has every right to your affections.' studies in vain to please her; and when at length her century, had, for several years, paid his addresses to an Here Dupont rose, and bowed to Madame Moutonnet. illness postpones his bopes sine die, he sets off on busi- accomplished and beautiful young woman, a native of the "A man who joins to an agreeable exterior (Dupont ness to Marseilles. Eugenie recovers, and chances to
island of Guernsey; and having surmounted the usual rises and bows)--those qualities wbich are essential to see Adolphe escorting, with unequivocal assiduity, difficulties and delays of love, which always increase the render a woman bappy !-(Another standing bow from another lady, to whom in fact he was about to be value of the object in pursuit, the happy day for leading Dupont)--A man of an age befitting a husband; a man married. This works such a cbange in her sentiments, his mistress to the altar at length was fixed. After who wishes to make you happy, who loves you tenderly; that she writes a kind letter to call home her well- giving the necessary orders for the reception of his inwho is rich, very rich ; and, what is more, economical, meaning, though troublesome husband. “My wife! a tended wife, Gordier, at the time appointed, in full and perfectly versed in business.'--All this while Du- letter from my wife! cried the grocer, 'what can tbat health and high spirits, sailed for Guernsey. The impont does nothing but stand up and bow.--- A map, in
She must be at the point of death!' He patience of a lover on such a voyage need not be deshort, in whom I know no defect.'-Here Dupont, sit. reads, and his astonishment increases at every word. scribed ; hours were years, and a narrow channel beting down too suddenly, rolled on to the floor. Bidois, Hereafter you will find in me a submissive wife.'- tween the islands, ten thousand leagues. The land of hearing a poise, pretended that he thought he was called. Good heaven! Is it possible! How reflecting! A promise at length appears, he leaps on the beach, and He assisted the grocer to regain his seat; and the fu- "submissive wife!” Ah! it is absence that has done without waiting for refreshment, or his servant, whom ture bridegroom, to avoid the like accident, determined this. My wise adores me, now she sees me no longer. he left with his baggage, sets out alone, and on foot, for to hear Madame Moutonnet to an end, quietly on his Poor litele dear!-A submissive wife! Dupont is in- the house he bad so often visited, which was only a chair. “In fine, my child,' continued Madame Mouton- toxicated; he jumps up, and runs like a madman to his few miles from the port. The servant, who soon folnet, when the storm was over, in the portrait which I landlady, tells her to pack up, and then flies to the post- lowed, was surprized to find his master not arrived; have drawn, I do not doubt you will recognise Monsieur house, where he arrives panting and blowing. Quick! repeated messengers were sent to search and enquire, Dupont, our sincere friend ;-well, you are not de- quick! cried be, 'I want some horses, a coach, postil- in vain. Having waited in anxious expectation till midceived; it is he who has asked your hand, and it is he lions !'~Where is the gentleman going? "To Paris.' night, the apprehensions of the lady and her family were to whoin we bave determined to marry you.'” The re- • When does Monsieur wish to set ont. Instantly; my proportionate to the urgency of their feelings, and the sult of this discourse is a fainting fit on the part of the wife is waiting for me. What is the quickest mode of circumstance of the case. poor girl, who endeavours to avert her calamity in vain. travelling.' Faith, sir, going post is as quick as any.' The next morning, at break of day, the appearance Nor is Adolphe, who makes a frantic appeal to Madame • Post! Very good ; I go post. Will you take a chaise ? of a near relation of the missing man, was not calcu
IV. THE TRAGEDY OF GUERNSEY.
lated to diminisha their fears. With evident marks of while the injured family were sending for the officers
Se, November 1, 1736. distress, fatigue, and dejection, he came to inform them
justice, be confirmed all their suspicions by suicide, and Sir—My clerk being a very mean scribe, at his rethat he had passed the whole of the night in minutely by a violent-tempered letter of confession.
quest I now answer the several queries in your letter examining, and in every direction, the environs of the
directed to him. road by which Gordier generally passed. --- After days
My disorder was an acute fever, under which I of dreadful suspense, and nights of unavailing anxiety,
laboured for a month, attended with a delirium during the corpse of the unfortunate lover was at length dis.
ten days of the time, and originally contracted, as I covered in a cavity among the rocks, disfigured with
We add the following by way of farces after our
have good reason for thinking, by my walking four many wounds; but no circumstance occurred on which Tragedy.
miles in the middle of a very hot day in July. to ground suspicion, or, even to hazard conjecture He who has been balf his life (quoth our authority) the blessing of God, and the prescriptions of my son, a
“ From this complaint, I am perfectly recovered by against the perpetrator of so foula murder. The regrer
an attendant at levees, on the faith of an election proof both families for a good young man thus cut off in mise, a watering-place squeeze of the hand, or a race.
doctor of physic; and I have officiated both in the meridian of life and expectation, by a cruel assassins
church, and at funerals in the church-yard, which is was increased by the mystery and mode of his death ground oath ; or, he, who vegetating on a fellowship, about three hundred yards froin my house. The report The grief of the young lady not being of that specie, waiting, or watching, or wishing for, the death of a hale with vows long plighted to some much loved fair, is
of my relapse was probably occasioned by my having a which relieves itself by shew and exclamation, was, for rector, at fifty-four; may, perhaps, be interested or
slighi complaint about three weeks ago ; but which did that very reason, the more poignant and heartfelt; she amused by the following little narrative, the merry ca
not confine me. was never seen to shed a tear, but doubled the pity for tastrophe of which took place at the time recorded.
“As to the present state of my health, my appetite, her fate by an affecting patience. Her virtues and her The incumbent of a valuable living in a western county,
digestion, and sleep are good, and in some respects, beauty having attracted general admiration, the family had for some years awakened the hopes and excited the
better than before my illness, particularly the steadiness after a few years, was prevailed on to permit Mr. Galfears of the members of a certain college, in whom the
of my hands. I never use spectacles, and I thank God, liard, a merchant and native of the island, to become her suitor, hoping that a second lover might gradually already outlived two of his proposed successors. next presentation was vested; the old gentleman baving
I can read the smallest print by candle light; nor have
I ever had reason to think that the seeds of the gout,
The withdraw her attention from brooding in hopeless silence tranquil pleasures of the common room bad very lately
the rheumatism, or any chronic disease, are in my conover the catastrophe of her first. In submission to the been interrupted or animated by a well-authenticated
stitution. wishes of her parents but with repeated and energetic account of the worthy clergyman's being seized with a
Although I entered on my eighty-first year the declarations that she never would marry, Galliard was violent and dangerous disease, sufficient, without me.
second of last March, the greatest inconvenience I feel occasionally admitted ; but the unhappy lady, probably dical aid, to hurry him to his grave. The senior fellow,
from old age is a little defect in my hearing and mefrom thinking it not very delicate or feeling in relation of her murdered lover to address her, found it before declined an advantageous offer, was congratulated with all humility and gratitude to acknowledge; and I who, on the strength of his contingency, had only the day mory: These are mercies, which, as they render the
remaining dregs of life tolerably comfortable, I desire difficult to suppress a certain antipathy, which she felt
on the fairness of his prospects, and the after dinner heartily pray that they may descend, with all other whenever be approached. It was possible also, that,
conversation passed off without that uninteresting nonalthough hardly known to herself, she might have en. chalance for which it was generally remarkable.
blessings, to my successor, whenever it shall please tertained a worse suspicion. At all events, the singu.
God to call me.
I am, sir, your unknown bumble lar but well-authenticated circumstance of her antipathy quickly dispatched, the gentleman alluded to burried to
R— W-" was often remarked, long before the secret was re- his room; he ascended the stairs, tripped along the
--: your vealed; it was a more than mental aversion, and was
“P. S. My clerk's name is Robert Dgallery, and stirred his almost extinguished fire with said to bear a near resemblance to that tremulous hor- unusual alacrity; then drawing from his portfolio a
letter cost him four-pence, to the foot post who briugs it
from See.'' for and shivering, which seizes certain persons of keen letter to his mistress, which, for want of knowing exsensibility and delicate feelings at the sight of some actly what to say, bad been for several weeks unfinished,
Such an epistle, from so good and excellent a charac
ter, and under such circumstances, could not fail provenomous creature, abhorrent far their own pature and he filled the unoccupied space with renewed protesta ducing unpleasant sensations in the breast of the likeness. But such was the ardour of passion, or such tions of undiminished love; and he spoke with raptures the fascinating magic of her charms, repulse only in- (raptures rather assumed than actually felt, after a six
receiver, who was not without many good qualities, and, creased desire, and Galliard persisted in his unwelcome teen years' courtship) of the near approach of that time,
except in this one occasion (for which love and port visits. Sometimes he endeavoured to prevail on the when a competent independence would put it into his
must be his excuse) did not appear to be deficient unfortunate young woman to accept a present from his power to taste that first of earthly blessings, nuptial love,
in feeling and propriety of conduct. hands. Her friends remarked that he was particularly without the alloy of uncertain support. He concluded
The purpose of this article will be fully and effectu
ally answered, if fellows of colleges, and expectants of urgent to present her with a beautiful trinket, of expen- a letter, more agreeable to the lady than any she had
fat livings, valuable sinecures, and rich reversions, may sive workmanship and valuable materials, which she ever received from him, with delineating bis future pointedly refused, adding, that it would be worse than plans, and suggesting a few alterations in the parsonage
happily be taught to check the indecorous ardour of improper in her to encourage attentions and receive fa- house, which, though not a modern building, was sub
eager hope ; lest they meet with the rebuff given by an Fours from a man, who excited in her mind sensations stantial, and in excellent repair ; thanks to the con
old Nottinghamshire vicar, whose health was more far stranger than indifference, and whose offers no
robust, and manners less courteous than those of the scientious and scrupulous care of his predecessor, in a
Dorsetshire clergyman. motive of any kind could prevail on her to accept. particular, to which, he observed, so many of the clergy But Galliard, by the earnestness of his addresses, by were culpably inattentive.—The letter was sent to the
This testy old gentleman, after recovering from a short his assiduities, and by exciting pity, the common re- post, and after a third rubber at the warden's (who ob
illness, was exasperated by insidious, often repeated, source of the artful, had won over the mother of the served that he never saw Mr. * so facetious), a
and selfish inquiries after his health ; and in the heat of lady to second his wishes. In her desire to forward bis poached egg, and a rummer of bot punch, the happy irritation, ordered a placard with the following words, suit, she had taken an opportunity, during the night, to man retired to bed in the calm tranquillity of long de
to be affixed to the chapel door of the college, to which fix the trinket in question on to her daughter's watch layed hope, treading on the threshhold of immediate
the vicarage belonged :
“ To the Fellows of * College. chain, and forbade her, on pain of her displeasure, to gratification. remove this token of unaccepted affection. Patiently at first, and then impatiently, waited he
“Gentlemen,-In answer to the very civil and very The health of the lovely mourner suffered in the con- several posts, without receiving further intelligence, and
intelligible inquiries which you bave of late so assiduflict; and the mother of the murdered man, who had filled up the interval as well as he could in settling his ously made into the state of my health, I bare the ever regarded ber intended daughter-in-law with tend- accounts as bursar ;* getting in the few bills he owed, pleasure to inform you that I never was better in my
life; and as I bave made up my mind on the folly of erness and affection, crossed the sea which divided Jer- and revising his books; which, as the distance was Sey from Guernsey to visit her. The sight of one so considerable, he resolved to weed before he left the dying to please other people, I am resolved to live as
long as I am able for my own sake. To prevent your nearly related to her first, her only love, naturally called university. Considering bimself now as a married man, forth ten thousand melancholy ideas in her mind. She he thought it a piece of necessary attention to his wife, to
being at any unnecessary trouble and expense in future
on the subject, I have directed my apothecary to give seemed to take pleasure in recounting to the old lady, supply the place of the volumes he disposed of, by some many little incidents which lovers only consider as im- of the miscellaneous productions of modern literature,
you a line, in case tbere should be any probability of a portant. Mrs. Gordier was also fond of enquiring into more imniediately calculated for female perusal.
vacancy : and am, your humble servant, and listening to every minute particular, which related At the end of three weeks, a space of time, as long to the last interviews of her son with his mistress. as any man of common feelings could be expected to It was on one of these occasions that their couversa- abstain from enquiry ; after being repeatedly assured
A laughable story was circulated during the adminis
tration of the old duke of Newcastle, * and retailed to tion reverted, as usual, to the melancholy topic; and by his college associates that the incumbent must be
the public in various forms. This nobleman, with many the sad retrospect so powerfully affected the young lady, dead, but that the letter announcing it had miscarried, good points, and described by a popular contemporary
and being positively certain of it himself, he took pen in in convulsions on the floor. During the alarm of the band, but not knowing any person in the neighbourhood
poet, as almost eaten up by his zeal for the House of unhappy family, who were conveying her to bed, their of the living, which he hoped so soon to take possession
Hanover, was remarkable for being profuse of his proterror was considerably increased by observing that the
mises on all occasions, and valued himself particularly of, he was for some time at a loss to whom he should eyes of Mrs. Gordier, were fearfully caught by the glitventure to write on so important a subject.
on being able to anticipate the words or the wants of tering appendage to the lady's watch; that well-known In the estlessness of anxious expectation, and irri.
the various persons who attended his levees, before they token of her son's affection, which, with a loud voice, tated by the stimulants of love and money--in a des.
uttered a syllable. This weakness sometimes led him into
ridiculous mistakes and absurd embarrassments; but it and altered countenance she declared he had purchased perate and indecorous moment, he addressed a letter as a gift for his mistress, previously to his quitting Guern. officially to the clerk of the parish, not knowing his
was his passion to lavish promises, which gave occasion sey. With a dreadful look, in which horror, indignation,
for the auecdote about to be related. This epistle commenced with taking it for
At the election for a certain borough in Cornwall, wonder, and suspicion were mingled, she repeated the granted that his principal was dead; but informing extraordinary circumstance, as well as the agitated state
him, that the college bad received no intelligence of it
, almost equally poised, a single vote was of the highest
where the ministerial and opposition interests were of her mind would permit, to the unhappy young lady,
a circumstance which they imputed to the miscarriage importance; this object the duke, by certain well-ap; during the interval of a short recovery,
of a letter ; but they begged to know, and if possible by plied arguments, by the force of urgent perseverance, and The moment the poor sufferer understood that the return of post, the day and hour on which he departed; personal application, at length atiained, and the gentlejewel she had hitherto so much despised, was origi- if, contrary to all expectation and probability, he should Dally in the possession of Gordier, the intelligence
man recommended by tlie treasury, gained his election. be still alive, the clerk was in that case desired to send seemed to pour a flood of new horror on her mind; she
In the warmth of gratitude for so signal a triumph, without delay, a particular and minute account of the made a last effort to press the appendage to her heart;
and in a quarter where the minister had generally her eyes, for a moment, exhibited the wild stare of madstate of his health, the nature of his late complaint, experienced defeat and disappointment
, bis Grace its apparent effects upon his constitution, and ness, stung as she was to its highest pitch by the horcircumstance he might think at all connected with the
poured forth acknowledgments and promises, without tible conviction; and crying out, “Oh, murderous vil
ceasing, on the fortunate possessor of the casting vote; life of the incumbent. lain !" she expired in the arms of the bye-standers.
called him his best and dearest friend ; protested that On receiving the letter, the ecclesiastic subaltern
he should consider himself as for ever indebted to him ; It is hardly necessary further to unfold the circum- inmediately carried it to the rector's, who, to the infinite stances of this mysterious assassination ; Gordier, in his
that he could never do enough for him; that he would satisfaction of his parishioners, had recovered from a
serve him by night and by day. most dangerous disease, and was, at the moment, en
The Cornish voter, in the main an honest fellow, " as clearly way-laid by Galliard, murdered and plundered tertaining a circle of friends at his hospitable board, things went," and who would have thought himself of the trinket, in the hope that after his death he
wbo celebrated his recovery in bumpers. might succeed to the possession of a jewel far more
After carrying bis eye over it io a cursory way,
already sufficiently paid, but for such a torrent of
acknowledgments, thanked the duke for his kindness, he smiled, read it to the company, and, with their per
and told bim, “ that the supervisor of excise was old it, but with evident confusion and equivocation ; and Galliard, being charged with the crime, boldly denied mission, replied to it himself, in the following manner :
* Henry, ninth Earl of Lincoln, and second Duke of Newcas* Treasurer of the college.
tle, some time prime minister,-a fighty politician,
and infirm, and if he would have the goodness to recom. “ Allow me to point out a little error in your RO
Just published, in three vols. post svo. mend his son-in-law to the commissioner, in case of the mance of Real Life," which I think, renders it less MAKANNA; OR, THE LAND OF THE SAVAGE. old man's death, he should think himself and his family romantic than the reality. You state that the Duke of
“One of the most interesting and graphic romances that it bound to render government every assistance in his Marlborough survived till 1817, whereas it appears has been our lot to read for many a year."-Athenæum. power, on any future occasion."
from Smollett, that he died in the course of the very year “ His pictures of the scenery of Africa are vivid and unique “My dear friend, why do you ask for such a trifling in which the letters were written. The words of the
his eloquent delineations of individual character are life-like and
philosophical.”- Atlas. employment ?” exclaimed his grace, “your relation shall historian are, “On the whole it is surprising that the death “ He is as much at home on the ocean-and there are many hare it at a word speaking, the moment it is vacant." of the duke, which hoppened in the course of this year, was scenes on ship board equal to the best of the great sea lord, the " But how shall I get admitted to you, my lord ? for in never attributed to the secret practices of this incendiary
author of the Spy."-New Monthly Magazine. London, I understand, it is a very difficult thing to get correspondent, who had given him to understand that London: Simpkin and Marshall; Dublin, Mr. Wakeman a sight of you great folks, though you are so kind and
Edinburgh, Messrs. Oliver and Boyd; and supplied by ali his vengeance, though slow, would not be the less cer
Booksellers. complaisant to us in the country.” " The instant the tain," vol. xii., p. 275. If I remember rightly, the same man dies," replied the premier, (used to, and prepared statement is inade in the first volume of the Annual for the freedoms of a contested election)" the moment Register, but I cannot at this moment refer to it.”
On the First of May, he dies, set out post baste for London ; drive directly to We have referred to the Annual Register, and to the my house, by night or by day, sleeping or waking, dead index of that work, and still find ourselves in some per
THE SHILLING MAGAZINE. or alive,–lbunder at the door; I will leave word with plexity; for though we think our correspondent must be
Advertisements intended for insertion in this Magazine,
to be sent to J. C. Picken, Bookseller, King William Street, my porter to shew you up stairs directly, and the em- right, both from what he has quoted out of Smollet, and West-strand. ployment shall be disposed of according to your wishes, because the duke is plainly the one referred to in the without fail."
Index as the second Duke of Marlborough, yet it would The parties separated; the duke drove to a friend's seem by the place in which the story is put in the In 2 vols. 8vo. with Plates and Diagrams, price 30s. house in the neighbourhood, where he was visiting, register, as though the circumstance had occurred in without a thought of seeing his new acquaintance till November, 1758 ; whereas this duke died the month HAMPDEN IN THE NINETEENTH
Century; or, Colloquies on the Errors and Improvement of that day seven years ; but the memory of a Cornish previous at Munster, in Germany. We can only con
Society. elector, not being loaded with such a variety of objects, clude, that the place was an improper one, and that the “No one will cast even a hasty glance over its pages without was more attentive. The supervisor died a few months date implied should have been that of the year before :
feeling their sympathies awakened by the zeal which the
author displays for improving the general condition of society, afterwards, and the ministerial partizan, relying on the and this seems the more likely, inasmuch as the author
and more especially of the working population."— Atheneum. word of a peer, was conveyed to London by the mail, of the Lounger’s Common-place Book (from whom we “ This remarkable work is brought out in a style of great eleand ascended the steps of a large house, now divided repeated the story) evidently had it from the Register,
gance." — Tait's Magazine. "The scenes described sometimes into three, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, at the corner of Great
touch the anomalies of the day in satire directed with the aim of and probably mistook the date in consequence. On the a skilful marksman." - Sunday Times. “The work appears to Queen Street.t
other hand, the duke could not have died, as Smollett be a powerful and remarkable one-a better boon to society than The reader should be informed that precisely at the says he did, “in the course of the year in which the would be a thousand tomes of Malthus and Maculloch: it is full moment when the expectations of a considerable party leiters were written,” for his death is dated October, and
to sufficiency of the warm and rich breath and blood of our com
mon nature."-Weekly Messenger. “ An equally curious and imof a borough in Cornwall, were roused by the death of a the first letter November. The duke who succeeded, portant work-subjects of the highest importance to the general supervisor, no less a person than the king of Spain was was a Knight of the Garter, as his father had been. The cause of mankind are discussed in these pages."-Weekly Disexpected hourly to depart: an event in which all Lounger says that the nobleman in question, was Master patch. “Throughout these rolumes are to be met with questions
and points of the most curious interest; the speech, on bidding Europe, and particularly Great Britain, was concerned. General of the Ordnance. Did the son succeed the
farewell to the House of Lords, is composed in a bold strain of The Duke of Newcastle, on the very night that the father in that office? We strongly incline to our cor. fervent eloquence.”—Monthly Review. “We do honour to the proprietor of the decisive vote was at his door, had sat respondent's emendation, and agree with him as to the
high and self-sacrificing feelings that, in the purest benevolence,
seem to have dictated every line of this curious work."--Metroup, anxiously expecting dispatches from Madrid, wearied improvement of the story by it; for though the father
politan Magazine. “There is something of the Christian chaby official business and agitated spirits, he retired to died of a fever said to be contracted " by the fatigues of racter mixed up with this work which pleases us exceedingly, rest, having previously given particular instruction to his a campaign,” the lovers of romance could easily we shall revert to these volumes with unfeigned delight." porter, not to go to bed, as he expected every minute a attribute the fever to a prison. Perhaps our correspon
New Weekly Dispatch. “This is the work of a gentleman, a
scholar, a philanthropist, and a philosopher : the language is messenger with advices of the greatest importance, dent, (if he has time) or some other instructed reader,
graceful and elegant."-Bell's Weekly Magazine. and desired he might be shown up stairs, the moment of will kindly settle this question for us.
Edward Moxon, Dover Street, his arrival.
His grace was sound asleep, for with a thousand singularities and absurdities, of which the rascals about
Just published, 4to. Price Is. 6d. boards. him did not forget to take advantage, his worst enemies WIRTEMBERG WINES.—The wines of Stutgard are could not deny him the merit of good design, that best famous for their bad and acrid quality. A pleasant THE REVOLUTIONARY EPICK, solace in a solitary hour; the porter settled for the night German traveller lately informed
By D'ISRAELI, the Younger.
Svo. Price 9s, boards. effectually from his slumbers. and the other, the same cat being drawn back again by Including, among others, Letters to Francis Horner, Horne
LETTERS AND ESSAYS, To his first question, “Is the Duke at home?" the the tail.
Tooke, and Sir James Mackintosh. porter replied, “Yes, and in bed; but he left particular Pleasing Regrets. Even when defeated and mortified,
III. orders that come when you will, you are to go up to him the social feelings are not wholly unpleasing; for the
Price 5s, cloth. directly.” " God for ever bless bim! a worthy and French Actress's exclamation, while speaking of an un- VOL. III. OF THE CURIOSITIES OF LITERATURE, bonest gentleman,” cried our applier for the vacant faithful lover's once deserting ber, was quite natural.
By J. D'ISRAELI, Esq. post, smiling and nodding with approbation, at a prime
“Ah! c'etoit le bons tems ! j'etois bien malbeureuse.” minister's so accurately keeping his promise, " How ("Ah! those were fine times! I was so unhappy:)
Edward Moxon, Dover Street. punctual bis Grace is; I knew he would not deceive Sharp's Letters and Essays Prose and Verse (just pubme ; let me hear no more of lords and dukes not keeping lished). The exclamation, however gaily put, is the On Tuesday, April 1, was published, Vol. I., price 6d, to be their words ; I believe, verily, they are as bonest, and more affecting, when we consider the probable heartless
continued Monthly, of mean as well as other folks, but I can't always say the same of those who are about them." Repeating these
ness of the actress's life at the time she uttered it; and THE LIBRARY OF POPULAR INSTRUCTION;
how delightful to the memory even the pains of a real words as he ascended the stairs, the burgess of ** affection bad become, when compared with the pleasures
divested of Technicalities, and adapted to all degrees of intelliwas ushered into the duke's bed chamber. of dissipation.
gence, on the same plan, and partly translated from the “Bib• Is he dead ?" exclaimed his Grace, rubbing his eyes,
liotheque Populaire,” published by
M. Arago and scarcely awaked from dreaming of the King of
M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire J. P. de Beranger
De Jussieu Spain, “Is he dead ?"
ADVERTISEMENTS. “Yes, my lord,” replied the
Duke de Bassano
Las Cases eager expectant, delighted to find that the election pro
Count Alex. de la Borde Orfila
F. Cuvier mise, with all its circumstances, was so fresh in the
Villerme ” THE KING'S PICTURES
Agasson de Grandsagne. before yesterday, exactly at half-past one o'clock, after of the BATTLE of TRAFALGAR, painted by W. J.
Gay-Lussac being confined three weeks to his bed, and taking a Huggins, (Marine Painter to his Majesty) and exhibited by
And other distinguished Statesmen and Philosophers in Paris. power of doctor's stuff, and I hope your Grace will be permission of his Most Gracious Majesty, with A GALLERY OF
Edited by Dr. J. P. LITCHFIELD. SUPERB PAINTINGS, amongst which are the celebrated Cherubim as good as your word, and let my son-in-law succeed and Seraphim of Correggio, taken from the Vatican by Napoleon,
forming ihe Third Annual Exhibition EXETER Hall, Strand. In offering this Library to the British public, the Proprietors. The duke, by this time, perfectly awake, was stag- Admittance to both One Shilling,
beg to remark that they have been induced to enter upon its gered at the impossibility of receiving intelligence from
publication partly in consequence of the extraordinary success Madrid in so short a space of time, and he was per
which has attended the “ Bibliotheque,” published by the above
celebrated men in France, but principally from the conviction of plexed at the absurdity of a king's messenger applying
the necessity of a similar work in England. Knowledge has been for his son-in-law to succeed the King of Spain. " Is A CHEAP AND ACCEPTABLE PRESENT TO YOUTHFUL called the key-stone of the arch of civilization ; up to a late pethe man drunk or mad? Where are your dispatches?”
riod it has been but too much defaced by technicality, and the exclaimed his Grace, bastily drawing back bis curtain,
This day is published, price 3s. 6d.
difficulties which attended its acquisition. It was the desire of
relieving science from their encumbrances that Dr. Arnott, Mr. when instead of a royal courier his cager eye recognized at THE JUVENILE MUSICAL Babbage, and a host of other learned and excellent men, comthe bed-side the well-known countenance of his friend
menced their labours; and it is a humble but honest helpmate
in the same vineyard, that “The Library of Popular Instruction" in Cornwall, making low bows with hat in band, and
begins its career. hoping “my lord would not forget the gracious promise
NATIONAL STORIES NEWLY SET TO MUSIC,
in the course of their publication, the Proprietors intend to he was so good as to make in favour of his son-in-law at
By W.A. NIELD.
draw largely from the parent stock, the “ Bibliotheque Popu
Embellished with about Sixty beautiful Illustrations by the last election of *
A literal translation of this work would be inexpedient, Cruikshank, engraved by Bonner,
because of its purely national character, and because also of the Vexed at so untimely a disturbance and disappointed
Comprising of news from Spain, he frowned for a few minutes, but
different opinions entertained on particular points by the learned 1. JOHN GILPIN, by Cowper.
of both countries. On some subjects, as geology, zoology, &c.,. chagrin soon gave way to mirth at so singular and ridi.
2. ELEGY on MADAME BLAISE, by Goldsmith.
entirely new treatises will be written. In that of zoology, for in. culous a combination of opposite circumstances, and 3. The FAKENHAM GHOST, by Bloomfield.
stance, the principles of the sciences will be first explained, and 4. The HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT, ETC.
then again illustrated by reference to the history and habits of yielding to the irritation, he sank on the bed in a violent
animals, in the hope that, by mixing the “dulce et utile," the fit of laughter, which, like the electrical Muid was com
5. RONDINO, by Steibelt,
subject will be divested of its dryness, and rendered more inmunicated in a moment to the attendants.
6. RONDINO, by Mozart.
viting and easy of comprehension.
"'The Popular Library of Instruction" will be published regu.
larly on the 1st of every Month, at 6d. each Vol. "What used to be an irksome task is, in these days, turned Published by Sparrow and Co., at the Bell's Weekly Magazine [ADDITION TO THE ARTICLE ON MR. BARNARD AND
into pleasing recreation ; and in no case has labour been con- Office, 11 Crane-court, Fleet-street. THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH).
verted into pleasure more agreeably than in the first part of the
work before us. The eye is delighted by a number of amusing A correspondent, whose letter was among the most
illustrations, the memory refreshed by the repetition of one of the LONDON: Printed and Published by Sparrow and Co., at The welcome we have received, and from whom we shall be most popular poems of the age; and the juvenile musical per- Bell's Weekly Magazine Offlce, 11, Crane Court, Fleet Street, glad to hear in future, concludes his communication as
former has most excellent practices, in the very clever manner WEST-END AGENTJ. C. Picken, 13, King William Street.
in which the music of the air and accompaniments is composed West Strand. follows: by Mr. Nield.” - Glasgow Courier.
LIVERPOOL-W. Williams, Ranelagh Place. Allan Bell and Co., Warwick-square ; and Simpkin and Mar. The Monthly Parts of this work will be supplied to the Country The north east corner. The house is still standing. It is shall, Stationers'-court, London; Fraser and Co., North Bridge. Trade by 'Simpkin and Marshall, Stationers' Court, Ludgate one with the passage under the side of it. street, Edinburgh ; and W. Curry, jun., and Co., Dublin,
FOR THE VOICE.
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WEDNESDAY, APRIL 23, 1834.
PRICE THREE HALFPENCE.
he shall say
LETTERS TO SUCH OF THE LOVERS OF
of Anacreon except that he is easy to read; another, fessed, was too good an epicure not to be temperate and KNOWLEDGE AS HAVE NOT HAD A
who confine their notions of him to a particular edition ; preserve his relish. Debauchees, who are foxhunters, CLASSICAL EDUCATION.
and a third, who look upon him as consisting in a cer- live to be old, because they take a great deal of ex
tain elegant impossibility to translate. There are more ercise ; but it is not likely that inactive men should ; LETTER II. ANACREOX.
absurdities of pretended scholarship, on this and all unless they combined a relish for pleasure with some We intended to have begun these letters with the oldest other writers, which the truly learned laugh at, and very particular kinds of temperance. and greatest of the Greek poets, Homer; but the want know to be no scholarship at all. Our present business There is generally, in Anacreon's earnest, a touch of of a book or two prevents us, and we turn for consola. is to attempt to give soine idea of what they think and something which is not in earnest,—which plays with tion to Anacreon, also an old poet, who gives it us feel with regard to Anacreon, and what all intelligent the subject, as a good-humoured old man plays with abundantly. So much so, that we no sooner think of men would think and feel, if they understood Greek children. There is a perpetual smile on his face behim, than war and its heroics, even in Homer, seen terms for natural impressions. To be unaffectedly tween enthusiasın and levity. He truly likes the objects ridiculous ; and the only sensible thing in life (provided charmed with the loveliness of a cheek, and the beauty he louks upon, (otherwise he could not have painted we were Greeks) appears to be, to sit drinking wine of a flower, are the first steps to a knowledge of Ana. them truly) and he will retain as much of his youthful under a myrtle tree, crowned with roses, and admiring creon. Those are the grammar of his Greek, and pretty regarà for them as he can. He does retain much, and a pretty girl. nearly the dictionary too.
he pleasantly pretends more. He loves wine, beauty, Even Anacreon, however, though of a genius pretty Little is known of the life of Anacreon. There is flowers, pictures, sculptures, dances, birds, brooks, kind obrious to most readers who are not blinded by mere scho- reason to believe that he was born among the richer and open natures, every thing that can be indolently enlarship, contrives to be misunderstood by great numbers classes ; that he was a visitor at the courts of princes; joyed; not, it must be confessed, with the deepest inwho fancy themselves intimate with him. It has been and that agreeably to a genius which was great enough, nermost perception of their beauty (which is more a said of ladies when they write letters, that they put their and has given enough delight to the world, to warrant characteristic of modern poetry than of ancient, owing minds in their postscripts—let out the real object of such a devotion of itself to its enjoyments, he kept aloof to the difference of their creeds) but with the most their writing, as if it were a second thought, or a thing from the troubles of his time, or made the best of them, elegant of material perceptions,—of what lies in the comparatively indifferent. You very often know the and tempted them to spare his door. It may be con- surface and tangibility of objects, -and with an adamount of a man's knowledge of an author by the re- cluded of him, that his existence, (so to speak) was mirable exemption from whatsoever does not belong to mark he makes on him, after be has made the one which passed in a garden ; for he lived to be old; which in a them,—from all false taste and the mixture of impertihe thinks proper and authorized. As for example, you man of his sensibility and indolence, implies a life pretty
With regard to the rest, he had all the sentiwill mention Anacreon to your friend A. in a tone which free from care. It is said that he died at the age of ment which good nature implies, aud nothing more. implies that you wish to know his opinion of him, and eighty-five, and was then choaked with a grape-stone ; a Upon those two points of luxury and good taste the fate generally thought to be a little too allegorical to character of Anacreon, as a poet, wholly turns.
He is Delightful poet, Anacreon-breathes the very spirit be likely. He was born on the coast of Ionia (part the poet of indolent enjoyment, in the best possible taste, of love and wine. His Greek is very easy."
of the modern Turkey,) at Teos, a town south of and with the least possible trouble. He will enjoy as All the real opinion of this gentleman respecting Smyrna, in the midst of a country of wine, oil, and sun- much as he can, but he will take no more pains about it Anacreon lie in what he says in these last words. shine ; and thus partook strongly of those influences of than he can help, not even to praise it. He would probably His Greek is easy; that is, our scholar has had less climate which undoubtedly occasion varieties in genius, talk about it, half the day long; for talking would cost trouble in learning to read him than with other Greek as in other productions of nature. As to the objection- him nothing, and it is natural to old age; but when poets. This is all he really thinks or feels about the able parts of his morals, they belonged to his age and he comes to write about it, he will say no more than the delightful Anacreon."
have no essential or inseparable connection with bis impulse of the moment incites him to put down, and he So with B. You imply a question to B. in the same poetry. We are therefore glad to be warranted in say, will say it in the very best manner, both because the tone, and he answers, “Anacreon! Oh! a most de- ing nothing about them. All the objectionable passages truth of his perception requires it, and because an lightful poet Anacreon-charming-all love and wine. might be taken out of Anacreon, and he would still be affected style and superfluous words would give him The best edition of him is Spaletti's."
Anacreon ; and the most virtuous might read him as trouble. He would, it is true, take just so much trouble, This is all that B. knows of Anacreon's “love and safely as they read of flowers and butterflies. Cowley, if necessary, as should make his style completely suitwine." "The best edition of it is Spaletti's ;” that is one of the best of men, translated some of his most Ana- able to his truth; and if his poems were not so short, to say, Spaletti is the Anacreon wine-merchant most in creontic poems. We profess to breathe his air in the it would be difficult to a modern writer to think that they repute.
same spirit as Cowley, and shall assuredly bring no could flow into such excessive ease and spirit as they do So again with C. as to his knowledge of the transla- poison out of it to our readers. The truly virtuous are if he had not taken the greatest pains to make them. tions of the “ delightful poet."
as safe in the pages of the London Journal as they can But besides his impulses, be had the babit of a life " Translations of Anacreon! Delightful poet-too de- be in their own homes and gardens. But cheerfulness upon him. Hence the compositions of Anacreon are lightful, too natural and peculiar to be translated - is a part of our religion, and we chuse to omit not even remarkable, above all others in the world, for being simplicity-naïveté-Fawkes's translation is elegant“ grapes in it, any more than nature has omitted them. “ short and sweet.” They are are the very thing, and Moore's very elegant, but diffuse. Nobody can trans- Imagine then a good-humoured old man, with silver nothing more, required by the occasion ; for the animal late Anacreon. Impossible to give any idea of the ex- locks, but a healthy and cheerful face, sitting in the de- spirits, which would be natural in other men, and might quisite simplicity of the Greek.”
lightful climate of Smyrna, under his vine or his olive, lead them into superfluities, would not be equally so to This gentleman has never read Cowley's translations with his lute by his side, a cup of his native wine before one, who adds the indolence of old age to the niceties from Anacreon ; and if he bad, he would not have him, and a pretty peasant girl standing near him, who of natural taste : and therefore as people boast, on other known which part of them was truly Anacreontic, and has, perhaps, brought him a basket of figs, or a bottle of occasions, of calling things by their right names, and which not. He makes up his mind that it is impossible milk corked with vine leaves, and to whom he is giving “a spade a spade," so when Anacreon describes a to give “any idea of the exquisite simplicity of the a rose, or pretending to make love.
beauty or a banquet, or wishes to convey his sense to Greek," meaning by that assertion, that he himself For we are not, with the gross literality of dull or you of a flower, or a grasshopper, or a head of hair, cansot, and therefore nobody else can. His sole idea vicious understandings, to take for granted every thing there it is; as true and as free from every thing foreign of Anacreon is, that he is a writer famous for certain that a poet says, on all occasions, especially when he is to it, as the thing itself. beauties which it is impossible to translate. As to old. It is mere gratuitous and suspicious assumption Look at a myrtle-tree, or a hyacioth, inhale its frag, supposing that the spirit of Anacreon may occasionally in critics who tell us, that such men as Anacreon passed rance, admire its leaves or blossom, then shut your eyes, be met with in poets who have not translated him, and “ whole lives" in the indulgence of “
every excess and
and think how exquisitely the myrtle tree is what it is, that
you may thus get an idea of him without recurring debauchery.” They must have had, in the first place, and how beautifully unlike every thing else,-how pure to the Greek at all, this is what never entered his head: prodigious constitutions, if they did, to live to be near in simple yet cultivated grace. Such is one of the odes for Nature has nothing to do with his head; it is only ninety; and secondly, it does not follow that because a of Anacreon. books and translations. Love, nature, myrtles, roses, poet speaks like a poet, it has therefore taken such a This may not be a very scholastic description ; but wine, have existed ever since the days of Anacreon ; vast deal to give him a taste, greater than other men's, we wish it to be something better; and we write to yet he thinks nobody ever chanced to look at these for what he enjoys. Redi, the author of the most genial apprehensions. We would have them conceive things with the same eyes.
famous Bacchanalian poem in Italy, drank little but a state of Anacreon, as they would that of his grapes ; Thus there is one class of scholars who bare no idea water. St. Evremond, the French wit, an epicure pro- and know him by his flavour. (SYARROW AND CO. CRANE COURT.]
And the elves also
It must be conceded to one of our would-be scho- happy imitation of his manner. We wish we had him will not do at all; for Anacreon's Bacchus is the perlarly friends above mentioned, that there is no transla- by us, to give a specimen. There is one beautiful song fection of elegant mythology, particularly comme il faut tion, not even of any one ode of Anacreon's, in the of his, (which has been exquisitly translated, by the in the waist, a graceful dancer, and beautiful as cheerEnglish language, which gives you an entirely right way, into Latin, by one of the now leading political fulness. In all Anacreon's manners, and turn of thinknotion of it. The common-place elegancies of Fawkes writers, *) the opening measure of which, that is, of the ing, you recognise what is called “ the gentleman." He (who was best when he was humblest, as in his ballad first couplet, is the same as the other common measure evidently had a delicate hand. The “cares” that he of “Dear Tom, this brown jug”) are out of the ques- of Anacreon :
talks about, consisted in his not having had cares tion. They are as bad as Hoole’s Ariosto. Mr. Moore's
Their eyes the glow worms lend thee,
enough. A turn at the plough, or a few wants, would translation is masterly of its kind, but its kind is not
The shooting stars attend thee,
have given him pathos. He would not bave thought all Anacreon's; as he would, perhaps, be the first to say,
Whose little eyes glow
the cares of life to consist in its being short, and swift,
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. now; for it was a work of his youth. It is too ori
and taking him away from his pleasures, If he partook ental, diffuse, and ornamented ; an Anacreon in Per
He ge melaina pinei,
however of the effeminacy of his caste, he was superior
Pinei de dendre auten, sia. The best English translations are those which
Pinei thalassa d'auras,
to its love of wealth and domination. The sole busiCowley has given us, although diffuseness is their fault
Ho d'Helios thalassan.
ness of his life, he said, was to drink and sing, perfume also ; but they have more of Anacreon's real animal Suckling, a charming off-hand writer, who stood between his beard, and crown his head with roses; and he apspirits, and his contentment with objects themselves, the days of Elizabeth and the Stuarts, and partook of pears to have stuck religiously to his profession. apart from what he can say about them. Cowley is the sentiment of the one and the levity of the other, “ Business," he thought, “must be attended to.” Plato most in earnest. He thinks most of what his original would have translated Anacreon admirably. And had calls him “wise;" as Milton calls the luxurious Spenser was thinking, and least of what is expected from his Anacreon been a fine gentleman of the age of Charles sage and serious." The greatest poets and philosotranslator.
the First, instead of an ancient Greek, he would have phers sometimes “let the cat out of the bag," when We will give a specimen of him presently. But it is written Suckling's ballad on a wedding. There is a they are tired of conventional secrets. not to be supposed that we have no passages in the touch in it, describing a beautiful pair of lips, which,
This bottle 's the sun of our table,
His beams are rosy wine; writings of English poets, that convey to an unlearned though perfectly original, is in the highest Anacreontic
We, planets that are not able reader a thorough idea of Anacreon.
Without his help to shine. do it, though far better sometimes as a translation of
Her lips were red, and one was thin,
These verses of Sheridan are Anacreontic. So is that verse, than verse itself, since the latter may destroy the
Compared with that was next her chin,
couplet of Burns's,-exquisitely so, except for the homli.
Some bee had stung it newly. original both in spirit and medium too. But prose, as
ness of the last word:
Care, mad to see a man so happy, a translation of verse, wants, of necessity, that sustained Beauty, the country, a picture, the taste and scent of
E'en drown'd himself amidst the nappy. enthusiasm of poetry, which presents the perpetual charm honey, are all in that passage. And yet Anacreon, in of a triumph over the obstacle of metre, and turns it to the happy comprehensiveness of his words, has beaten
One taste, like this, of the wine of the feelings gives a
better idea of Anacreon's drinking songs than hundreds an accompaniment and a dance. Readers, therefore, it. The thought has got somewhat hacknied since his of ordinary specimens. must not expect a right idea of Anacreon from the best time, the hard, though unavoidable fate of many an ex
But we must hasten to close this long article with the prose versions ; though, keeping in mind their inevitable quisite fancy; yet stated in his simple words, and ac
best Anacreontic piece of translation we are acquainted deficiences, they may be of great service and pleasure companied with an image, the very perfection of elo- with ;-chat of the famous ode to the Grasshopper by to him, especially if he can superadd the vivacity which quence, it may still be read with a new delight. In his Cowley. Anacreon's Grasshopper, it is to be observed, they want. And he is pretty sure not to meet in them direction to a painter about a portrait of his mistress, he is not properly a Grasshopper, but the Tellis, as the with any of the impertinences of the translations in tells him to give her “a lip like Persuasion's,”
Greeks called it from its cry,—the Cicada of the verse ; that is to say (not to use the word offensively)
Roman poet, and Cicala of modern Italy, where it sings any of the matter which does not belong to the original ;
Provoking a kiss.
or cricks in the trees in summer-time, as the grass. for an impertinence, in the literal, unoffensive sense of The word is somewhat spoilt in English by the very hopper does with us in the grass. It is a species of the word, signifies that which does not belong to, or form piquancy which time has added to it; because it makes beetle. But Cowley very properly translated his Greek a part, of any thing.
it look less in earnest, too much like the common lan- insect as well as ode, into English, knowing well that The passage quoted in our last London Journal about guage of gallantry. But provoking literally means calling the poet's object is to be sympathized with, and that if Cupid bathing and pruning bis wings under the eyes for—asking—forcing us, in common gratitude for our Anacreon had written in England, he would have adof a weeping beauty (the production either of Spenser, delight, to give what is so exquisitely deserved. And dressed the grasshopper instead of the tettin. or of a friend worthy of him) appears to us to be tho- in that better sense, the word provoking is still the right We have marked in Italics the expressions, which, roughly Anacreontic in one respect, and without con
though original in Cowley's version, are purely Anacre. tradiction ; that is to say, in clearness and delicacy of Shakespeare's serenade in Cymbeline might have been ontic, and such as the Grecian would bave delighted to fancy.
written by Anacreon, except that he would have given write. The whole poem is much longer than Anacreon's, The blinded archer-boy, like larke in shower of raine, us some luxurious image of a young female, instead of double the size; but this, perhaps, only justly makes Sat bathing of his wings; and glad the time did spend the word “lady.”
up for the prolongation afforded to all ancient poems, Under those cristall drops, which fell from her faire eyes, And at their brightest beams, him progned in lovely wise.
Hark, hark, the lark at heav'ns gate sings
by the music which accompanied them. There is not Milton's address to May-morning would have been
And Phæbus 'gins arise,
a Cowleian conceit in the whole of it, unless the thought
His steeds to water at those springs Anacreontic, but for a certain something of heaviness
On chaliced flowers that lies,
about “farmer and landlord,” be one, which is quickly
And winking mary-buds begin or stateliness which he has mingled with it, and the
forgiven for its naturalness in an English landscape ; and
To ope their golden eyes : deferential changes of the measure.
With every thing that pretty been,
the whole, from beginning to end, though not so per
My lady sweet, arise. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
fectly melodious, runs on with that natural yet regulated Com s dancing from the East, and leads with her
Lilly, a writer of Shakespeare's age, who perverted a and elegant enthusiasm, betwixt delight in the object The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.
naturally fine genius to the purposes of conceit and and indolent enjoyment in the spectator, which has been The dancing of the star, the leading flowery May, fashion, has a little poem beginning,
noticed as the characteristics of the sprightly old bard. the green lap, and the straightforward simple style
Cupid and my Campaspe played
The repetition of the word all is quite in the poet's
At cards for kisses, of the words, are all anacreontic; but the measure is
manner; who loved thus to cram much into little, and too stately and serious. The poet has instinctively wbich Anacreon might have written, bad cards existed to pretend to himself that he was luxuriously expa. changed it in the lines that follow these, which are al in his time. But we bave it not by us to quote. Many tiating ;-as in fact he was, in his feelings ; though, as together in the taste of our author :
passages in Burns's songs are Anacreontic, inasmuch as to composition, he did not chuse to make " a toil of a
they are simple, enjoying, and full of the elegance of the pleasure." Hail bounteous May! that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire : senses ; but they have more passion than the old Greek's,
Happy insect! what can be
In happiness compared to thee : Woods and groves are of thy dressing; and less of his perfection of grace. Anacreon never
Fed with nourishment divine, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
The dewy morning's gentle wine. suffers but from old age, or the want of wine. Burns
Nature waits upon thee still, then a long line comes too seriously in
suffers desperately, and as desperately struggles with And thy verdant cup does fill? Thus we salute thee with our early song,
Tis filled wherever thou dost tread And welcome thee and wish thee long.
his suffering, till we know not wbich is the greater, he Nature's self's thy Ganymede. We will here observe, by the way, that Anacreon's or his passion. There is nothing of this robust-banded
Tnou aost drink, and dance, and sing,
All the fields which thou dost see, measures are always short and dancing. One of these work in the delicate Ionian. Nature is strong and sove
AU the plants belong to thee ; somewhat resembles with the shorter ones of the above reign in him, but always in accommodating unison with
All that summer hours produce, his indolence and old age. He says that he is trans
Fertile made with early juice. poem.
Man for thee does sow and plow, Woods and groves are of thy dressing ported, and he is so; but somehow you always fancy
Farmer he, and landlord thou! Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. him in the same place, never quite carried out of him
Thou dost innocently joy;
Nor does thy luxury destroy;
The shepherd gladly heareth thee,
Thee country hinds with gladness hear,
Phabus is himself thy sire
Thee Phæbus loves, and does inspire;
To thee, of all things upon earth, hibited much of the hilarity of wine. Their port is Life is no longer than thy mirth. heavy, compared with Anacreon's Teion. Shakspeare's
Happy insect, happy thou !
Dost neither age nor winter know; Ekeleuse syntrochazein.
Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne
But when thou'st drunk, and danc'd, and sung
(Voluptuous, and wise withall,
Thou retirest to endless rest,
More harmonious than he.
Dote moi lyren Homerou
nounced long, as in the word rose.
Hyacinthine me rhabdo
There is a poet of the timt of Charles the First, Herrick, who is generally called, but on little grounds, the English Anacreon, though he now and then bas no un
Sated with thy summer feast,