Secured in their enjoyment, all must know Purveyed by Knowledge, by Affection led, Be Freedom's march, till all the earth be won; BYRON AND PLAGIARISM. source than to take the thoughts of others and cast them into new forms of associations and contrast. Plagiarism, to be sure, is branded of old, but it is never criminal, except when done in a clumsy way, like stealing among the Spartans. A good thought is often far better expressed at second hand than at the first utterance. If a rich material has fallen into incompetent hands, it would be the height of injustice to debar a more skilful artist from taking possession of it and working it up. Commend me to a good pilferer--you may laugh at it as a paradox, but I assure you the most original writers are the greatest thieves." " Lady Blessington also observes, in her "Journal of Conver sations with Lord Byron," "As Byron had said that his own position had led to his writing The Deformed Transformed,' I ventured to remind him, that in the advertisement to that drama he had stated it to have been founded on the novel of 'The Three Brothers.' He said that both statements were correct, and then changed the subject, without giving me an opportuny of questioning him on the unacknowledged but visible resemblances between other of his works and that extraordinary production. It is possible that he is unconscious of the plagiary of ideas he has committed; for his reading is so desultory, that be seizes thoughts, which, in passing through the glowing alembic of his mind, become so embellished as to lose all identity with the original crude embryos he has adopted." I submit these extracts without comment, not doubting but every intelligent reader will admit Byron's transcendent poetical genius, notwithstanding these frank admissions on his part. Washington City, May, 1938. S. F. G. GEORGIA SCENES, CHARACTERS, AND INCIDENTS.* NEW SERIES.-NUMBER 1. LITTLE BEN. There are some who delight in tales of torment---to such this sketch is respectfully dedicated. And as a writer in the Southern Literary Messenger says, I feel half inclined “to perpetrate a little philosophy" upon this unamiable trait in the human character. I yield to the temptation, however, no farther, than barely to remark, that I believe it is a trait common in seme measure to all men. This may be proved phrenologically. 1 know a man, who, by the concurring testimony of two phrenologists, is remarkable for his benevolence; and I have the atthority of that gentleman for saying, that he found no pleasure in reading Horace, until he came to the ninth satire. In that, the poet tells us, as the classic reader knows, that in one of his rambles, he encountered a fellow, who fastened upon him like a leech, who would be dismissed by no hint, and who talked him into an agony, that threatened to stop his breathing through all time. He who could find nothing pleasing in the works of from the torments of the bard alone, not from the poetry in which they were recounted. If an uncommonly benevolent man, can delight in the suffering of a fellow being, all men must. Q. E. D. Relying upon the truth just established, I venture to lay before the public a history of my troubles from garrulity; premising, that those who find in themselves a refutation of my logic had better follow me no farther; for they will find this, the dullest and most insipid narrative, that ever was committed to paper. A writer in the Messenger for March last, quotes Byron and Madame de Stael, and places the English bard in no very enviable light, by making use of the sentiments of others to attain that fame for which he had an inordinate ambition. In my readings I have met with the following passages, shewing his reasonings on the principle. I will introduce the quotations by the follow-Horace, except in this satire, must have derived his gratification ing extract from his life, by Lake, in which it will be seen he takes a broad ground: "Byron was a great admirer of the Waverley novels, and never travelled without them. They are,' said he, to Captain Medwin, one day, 'a library in themselves a perfect literary treasure. I could read them once a year with new pleasure. During that morning he had been reading one of Sir Walter Scott's novels, and delivered, according to Medwin, the following criticism: 'How difficult it is to say any thing new! Perhaps all nature and art could not supply a new idea." And in the "Conversations of an American with Lord Byron," quoted into the London New Monthly Magazine, it is said, "He allowed frankly that he was indebted to the hints of others for some of the most esteemed passages in his poetry. 'I never,' said he, 'considered my self interdicted from helping myself to another man's stray ideas. I have Pope to countenance me in this: Solemque quis dicere falsum audeat ! Pope was a great hunter up of grains of wheat in bushels of chaff; but I have been no more scrupulous than he in making use of whatever fell in my way. Mankind have been writing books so long, that an author may be excused for offering no thoughts absolutely new. We must select, and call that invention. A writer at the present day has hardly any other re * See Littell's Museum for December, 1835. If Horace has truly depicted his sufferings from the stranger who joined him in the Via Sacra, then I have no scruples in say ing, that I once had an acquaintance who would have killed him stone dead, before he reached Vesta's temple. His tormentor talked chiefly of himself---so did mine; and here ends the parallel. His, was a man of letters--- he was a poet, a dancer, and *The readers of the Messenger, cannot have forgotten the rich treat we gave them from the first volume of the " Georgia Scenes," about two years ago. We are rejoiced to perceive that the very talented author has determined to come out with a new series of them,-the first of which, "Uncle Ben," we transfer to our columns from the "Augusta Mirror," a very neatly printed and well edited periodical, just started in Augusta, Georgia. [Ed. Mess. a singer, of note---mine was an obscure farmer, who could hardly read and write. His, was a man who knew much of the world; mine, had hardly ever travelled beyond the visible horizon, that encircled his native domicil. With the first, therefore, self, was a subject of agreable variety...with the last, self, was a dead monotony. The one passed rapidly from subject to subject; the other never quit a subject until he carried it through the most minute, circumstantial, dry, tantalizing details that ever afflicted a patient ear. When Horace once got rid of his man, he was rid of him forever: but I was constrained to visit mine weekly, and sometimes oftener, for about two years. The native Venusian enjoyed the poor privilege of writhing under his tortures; but even this privilege was denied to the native Georgian. I would not be rude to my oppressor, first, from a principle of courtesy, and secondly from a principle of personal security; for he was of the best fighting blood in the country. Now let the reader imagine me thus circumstanced, and listening by the hour to story after story, like those below, and if he can laugh, or even smile at my tortures, I do not envy him his philanthropy, flattered as I may be, by his testimony to my ethics. The name of my thorn was Benjamin Grinnolds; but he was usually called Little Ben, to distinguish him from an uncle of the same name; and only for this purpose; for he was not diminutive in stature. Little Ben never used his upper lip in talking; he transferred its office to his upper teeth. If he was not driven to this expedient from necessity, it was certainly a kindness to both lips; for his upper teeth protruded so far forward, as to make it a positive labor for his lips to salute each other. Some of his friends used to say that he could not blow out a candle without dislocating his neck, or burning his chin; but I do not believe that. This little deformity had the effect of changing all the b's and p's in Ben's narratives to v's and f's: nevertheless Ben delivered himself with great fluency. His sentences were uniformly short, and distinguished only by the semicolon pause, save when he recounted some wonderful achievement, or astounding witicism of his hero: then indeed he took a semibreve rest; during which, he assumed a look of self-complaisance, an arch cut of the eye, and a veiled smile that would hardly have been tolerated in Buonaparte, after the battle of Lodi. He did not always, however, use his favorite stop to divide distinct sentences, but sometimes made it usurp the comma's place; and very often ran from sentence to sentence without any pause between them. All other stops were dismissed from his discourses. He almost invariably threw the emphasis on the first word in a sentence, and upon no other word. His delivery was naturally quick; and either from this cause, or from an irrepressible desire to pass from story to story, he dealt largely in the elipsis. The reader has doubtless often listened to drops of rain descending from the eaves of a house, upon a platform some twelve or fifteen feet long, just after a shower. One big drop, and four or five little ones, descend in rapid succession-then a momentary pause, and six or eight follow in the same order-then a like pause, and fifteen or twenty roll on the ear in like manner. Lule Ben's words and sentences. So fell I proceed to lay before the reader one or two of Ben's stories, which are quite as interesting as any that I ever heard from him. For the sake of perspicuity I frequently use stops which he did not; but that the reader may catch his prevailing style, I give the appropriate points for a few sentences. STORY THE FIRST. they're somewhere avout here. Oh no they a'n't s'ys 1, they al- STORY THE SECOND. Cousin John and I went one day down his mill creek a fishin', and we fished a while, and got no bites, and s'ys cousin John to me, Ven I'm going home-well s'ys I cousin John you may go, vut I'll fish a little longer. Oh s'ys he come along and lets go home, you'll cetch nothin'. Well s'ys I, I dont 'spect to cetch any thing vut a few horny-heads no how, vut I'll fish on a while longer. Well s'ys he I'm off, and away he went. I walks along uf the creek droffin' in here and there, vut I got nothin' vut a few nivvles, and one little horny-head. Fresently I came to a deep hole at the root of a vig veech look'd like there might be cat in it. So I futs on a fresh long-worm, and soused in my hook and fresently, vy dad, somethin' took me ; but I miss'd him. S'ys I touch me agin mate. So I haul'd the One day 'n the fall; t' was powful hot too for that time o' year; uncle Ven come over to our house; and s'ys he to me Ven let's go kill some squir'ls; Oh s'ys I it's too hot; Oh s'ys he you're not taller; No s'ys I nor vutter nuther; vut hot's hot and sweaten 's same to me as meltin; Oh s'ys he come long come long its cool in the woods; well s'ys I you'll not kill noth-vate-gourd to me and took out another long-worm and fut it on in' no how this time o' day where's Trig? I don't know s'ys uncle Ven where he was when I come away. I could'nt find him. Then s'ys 1 I'll swar' foin vlank you'll kill nothin'. Why s'ys he whare's Jole! and Touze? They're good for nothin' s'ys I for squir❜ls but Touze trees sometimes and we can try 'em. So I call'd the dogs, s'ys I" here Jole! here Touze!" vut ding the dog could I find. Call 'em again s'ys uncle Ven * Uncle Ben's squirrel dog Trigger. t Jooler and Touser, Little Ben's dogs. my hook and soused in agin, and vy dad he took me agin, and voys cetching cats than for my cetching 'em-s'ys I if you'll go | tion of the neighboring one, with their guns in their vack to the creek with me, I'll show you where I caught the cat. hands, and apparently in the greatest terror. Having Well vy George, says he, I will go with you. Well s'ys I come been admitted, they stated, that they had gone out along. So we goes down to the creek and s'ys I to cousin John, cousin John there's where I caught the cat. Well s'ys he Ven, about day-light to hoe their corn and cotton-a small I sh'an't v'lieve you till you cetch another cat. Why, s'ys I quantity of which latter article was raised to be spun cousin John its ding'd hard if a man must cetch two cats, fore by the women-that they had been at work but a few you'll v'lieve he caught one cat.--Well s'ys he I sh'an't v❜lieve moments before they heard the 'crack of a rifle. These you any how, till you cetch another. Well s'ys I cousin John, there's nothin' like tryin' any how. So I clafs on another long men, it appeared, were in that part of the field which worm and soused in my hook, and vy dad, I whops out another was farthest from the station. Between them and their ding great cat about that long. S'ys I cousin John what do you companions more than thirty Indian warriors, emerging think o' that?............ Well s'ys he Ven, now I v'lieve you from the neighboring wood, suddenly interposed. The caught the cat, and ever since that I've had the run on cousin other white men, ten or twelve in number, on the first alarm, sprung to their arms, and on the first impulse made towards the gate, the enemy being close upon their heels. The women seeing their husbands coming and hotly pursued, opened the gate, hoping to admit them, then to close it and exclude the savages. But the Indians accelerated their speed, and entered as it were upon the shoulders of the settlers. The seven men perceiving that all was lost within, had come with all possible haste to Nashville, in order to procure succor. John about that cat. The reader is tired of this nonsense, and so is BALDWIN. THE WEST FIFTY YEARS SINCE. CHAPTER III. The recent achievement of Henry, excited in the bosoms of his companions the highest admiration of his personal prowess. They also felt for him that deep attachment which mutual privations and mutual dangers never fail to inspire. But week after week rolled away, and yet Col. B. and his family came not, nor were there any tidings of them. The time set for their departure from the landing, was often counted over. The fears of the people at the station were aroused, and at last it was agreed by all that some fatal disaster must have befallen the travellers. It was evident to Major G. that his son was disquieted and sad, and that he had become indifferent to those pursuits which had excited him to action on his first arrival. This thrilling detail awakened all Henry's energies into full action. His dark and cloudy brow, compressed lips, and fiery eye, shadowed forth the tempest that was raging within. The commander proceeded with his accustomed circumspection. Having called his men together, it was decided that a small number of them should proceed to the station that had been attacked; ascertain the extent of the mischief that had been done; whether the enemy had fled, and which of the great traces leading south, they had taken. Word was sent to the other two stations, of what had happened, with orders that all who could be spared, should be sent fully equipped for an expedition. Those who visited the scene of the late disaster, approached cautiously and silently: not the slightest noise was heard. It was evident that the enemy had come in haste, had done their bloody work in haste, and were already gone. The tracks of the ponies around, proved that they were on horseback, and that they would retreat as rapidly as possible until they be lieved that they were beyond the reach of pursuit. At the entrance of the station there were four Indians and nine white men dead. On the countenances of the former the scowl of defiance and revenge still lingered. They were attired in their war dresses; their faces painted red and black. One of them was lying with his Henry's fervid imagination sometimes pictured the object of his adoration dragging out her days in a hopeless and degrading servitude. Sometimes he beheld her swollen, disfigured and unburied corpse, drifted up and lying on the beach of the Tennessee. All hope of ever seeing Emily again was nearly abandoned. These thoughts drove him almost mad. In the bitterness of his anguish he determined to take triple vengeance upon the ferocious enemy. All his faculties seemed to be absorbed in a desperate and deadly resolution to have blood for blood. More than once he proposed to the commander of the station to raise a volun-gun beside him, not having been discharged. It seem teer force which should penetrate into the towns of the ed probable that one of the whites, seeing that he must Indians, lay them waste, seize upon their women and die, resolved to sell his life dearly; that he had turned children, coerce them into terms of accommodation, and suddenly upon his pursuer, and shot him through the to a restoration of the captives which they held. But heart. In the hand of another was a long and bloody the cautious veteran checked this youthful impatience knife, which he had used, and which he still held firmly, and impetuosity by alleging that they were as yet too the muscles being yet unrelaxed. At a little distance weak to act on the offensive; that after a while they from the gate there lay an old man tomahawked and might be strengthened by new detachments of emi-scalped the father of one of those who had fallen. By grants, and that until then they must bear their suffer-him sat his faithful dog gently licking his wounds. ings bravely and patiently. Whilst Henry awaited in torturing anxiety for some developments that might enable him to ascertain the probable fate of Emily, an event occurred which had well nigh broken up the whole settlement. When the visiters approached, he came towards them with piteous and imploring looks, then sprung back, as if to invite them to relieve his master's distress. A few paces farther on, there was a woman lying on her face. Beside her was her child, who was just able to One morning, about an hour after sun-rise, seven men speak, sobbing, and shaking her mother as if she thought were seen running towards the station, from the direc- Ishe was asleep. In one of the cabins there were two The parting was affecting, because it was very certain that some who were going might never return. But the emergency was pressing, and each man was anxious to meet it. The ever active wife of the commander was at hand. Although her heart was full, her fortitude never failed her. In a firm voice she said, "John, my husband, take care of yourself; but be sure that you and the boys do not suffer those murderers to escape: no, not one of them." After the party had fairly cleared the settlements, the commander addressed them, and stated that the enemy had gotten eighteen hours the start of them; that they had probably travelled the whole of the preceding night, but that they would slacken their pace, as was their custom when they were not soon pursued and overtaken. He believed that they would cross the Tennessee on rafts, on which they would place their plunder. Although the distance was so great, the commander thought it most advisable to follow the foe to the river, attack them there, and take them by surprise. At our first fire we must cut off as many as we can. Rais children about four years old, each with a stick in its hand raking parched corn from the fire, apparently unconscious of what had happened, and absorbed in their employment. On being questioned, they stated, that hearing a noise they had crawled under the bed. Here and there were the remains of several infants, which it was evident had been taken by the heels and their brains beaten out against the walls of the station, and then thrown down. The spinning wheels, chairs and stools, were overturned. The carded cotton was flying in every direction, and that which was spun was scattered over the floors of the cabins. Some of the quilts and blankets seemed to have been dropped as the marauders were endeavoring to take them away. Every thing bore the appearance of confusion and hurry. Towards evening all those who were to join in the proposed expedition, assembled. The party was well mounted. All night they were busied in the necessary preparations. No one thought of sleep. A small sack of corn was fastened behind each saddle, and over each was thrown a long, narrow wallet, with a small quantity of meat in the ends. All wore their summer hunting himself in his stirrups, and throwing his eye fiercely ing shirts. The force of the savages was about sixty; that of the whites forty. Ten of them were detailed to act as spies. John Gordon was appointed their captain; a post of great trust and peril. This precaution was indispensable, because the enemy had reduced their peculiar mode of making war to perfection. In order to decoy their victims into their power, they were accustomed, when traversing the woods, to whistle like partridges, to grunt like bears, to howl like wolves, and to gobble like the wild turkies. around, he said then, each man must buckle to his man, and not a soul of them will be able to save himself. Passing on rapidly, the spies being half a mile ahead, the party travelled four days. On the morning of the fifth, Gordon returned back in haste upon the main body, and reported that they had come to a fire from which the enemy could not have departed more than an hour. It was manifest that the Indians had set out early with the view of passing the river by night-fall. A halt was ordered, and each man directed to pick his flint, reload, and prime anew. The horses were se all, and particularly upon the young men, to fire deliberately and upon good aim. It was of great importance to ascertain the exact condition, position and employment of the enemy, before the fire of the whites was delivered. The captain of the spies was ordered upon this dangerous duty. If a leaf should be disturbed, these watchful sons of the forest might detect with the quickness of lightening the presence of their pursuers. In an instant they would vanish like shadows, plunge into the depths of the woods, and defeat the plan that had been laid for their total destruction. The spy proceeded fearlessly to the discharge of his perilous undertaking. When he came within twenty-five or thirty yards of the bank of the river, the bluff being not more than twelve or fifteen feet high, he laid down and drew himself along by seizing upon the grass with his right hand, and trailing his gun after him in his left. Having reached the brink, he raised his head a few inches, and peeped over. The Indians were scattered along the sandy beach. The morning was beautiful; not a breath of air disturbed the wide and placid sheet of water that was slowly moving by. Some of the enemy were picking up pieces of driftwood and carrying them on their shoulders lazily to the spot where others were The captain of the spies was an original. His height was not more than five feet five inches, but the symme-cured by their halters. The veteran enjoined it upon try of his person was perfect. His bodily activity was wonderful. From mere love of romantic adventure he had wandered away from his friends and joined a small company going to the west. Not one of these friends knew whither he had gone, or when he would return, if ever. He was reckless of the world's goods. He neither asked nor cared for any thing but enough to eat and to wear, and a faithful horse, dog and rifle. All his faculties seemed to be swallowed up in a passion for action. Looking always upon the bright side of the picture of human life, he never desponded. His playful fancy was forever on the wing. He filled every one about him with delight, as though he bore the wand of a charmer. His wit was almost attic. Gordon's gifts were indeed so rare, that he was a universal favorite. In his intercourse with the gentler sex, he exhibited the greatest delicacy and generosity of sentiment. No man was braver in battle, and yet a more humane spirit never dwelt in human bosom. When he was bent on attaining any object that was dear to his heart, he was as secret and silent as the grave; still those who scanned him slightly, regarded him as a babbler, and supposed that if a single thought which he held, was pent up within him for a moment, that he must burst. The commander saw the peculiar qualities of this individual and appre-constructing the rafts. Several had cut grape vines, ciated them correctly. The new duty assigned him, required the exercise of all his talent, because on his skill and vigilance the life of each man of the party imminently depended. All were ready at the first dawn of the morning. The women and children gathered around to bid farewell. with which to tie the logs together, and were dragging them after them. Five or six were looking idly on, and about as many were stretched out asleep. There were five young and handsome squaws with the party. These were standing in a group, each dressed in a frock and bonnet, that had been taken off at the time of the massacre. They were in a joyous humor, and were laughing immoderately at each other. First one and then another would walk off with an air and strut, and the rest would pursue her with loud peals of merriment. Gordon returned and gave all the necessary details. Henry then offered a suggestion which was unanimously adopted; that only twenty of their men should fire from the top of the bank; that the other twenty should leap down the bluff and make at the Indians, whilst those who had discharged their guns should reload on the instant, and come to the assistance of those who would be in advance and actually engaged. All moved with the silence of death, and each took deliberate sight. When the whites delivered their fire, there arose a long and loud shriek. Those whose rifles were still loaded, fairly threw themselves down the precipice, rose to their feet, and pushed on rapidly. The enemy seized upon their arms; the women flew along the shore. The warriors were so completely surprised that they could not run without being overtaken. They resolved as it were instinctively to make battle and die desperately. Turning upon the whites, they dispersed to some extent, and each naturally selected an opponent. Henry G. preserved his self-possession, but his spirit was on fire. His attention was arrested by the saucy and defying look of a warrior, about his own age, re ICELAND. We have heretofore reviewed an epic poem from Sweden, with copious extracts. Perhaps to most readers the following paragraph, giving some hints of the literary state of Iceland, as long ago as 1819, may be even more interesting. It is extracted from Blackwood's Magazine, for April, 1819. ICELANDIC LITERATURE. From some interesting accounts respecting the modern literature of Iceland, we learn, that a translation has been made of Milton's Paradise Lost, and of the first fourteen books of Klopstock's Messiah, into the language of that country, by John Thorlakson, a native. This poet is a minister at Baegisa, and lives in a little hut, situated between three high mountains, and in the neighborhood of torrents and foaming cataracts. The room in which he studies and sleeps, is scarcely large enough to contain a bed, a table, and a chair, and the entrance is not four feet in height. His whole income does not exceed six guineas a year, although he serves two parishes. So little is required to support life in Iceland, that, formerly, the ministers had not more than thirty shillings for their annual stipend. Netherlands. An Almanack of the Muses in Dutch for 1820, to include the productions of the most celebrated living poets, is announced. Russia. customs of its inhabitants. Spain. The Lancasterian System of Education is about to be published in Spanish, and dedicated, by permission, to king Ferdinand. markable for the elegance and admirable symmetry of his person, his great elasticity of limbs, and his free and unconstrained movements. He fled, and Henry pursued him; but after he had run about fifty yards he halted suddenly, turned, and raised his rifle, so did Henry, and both, in their anxiety and hurry, missed. On the advance of his antagonist, the young warrior again retreated, turning occasionally and watching for In the Russian language, a geographical manual his foe. At last he stopped, wheeled, and in an instant of the Russian Empire, in two volumes by C. M. threw his tomahawk with all his might, which struck de Broemsen, who, during twenty-five years Henry between his left nipple and the joint of the left active peregrination of this vast country, has shoulder. The wound was deep, and the blood stream-been enabled to visit the greater part of it. The ed down, but he was now excited almost to madness. work includes particular observations on the soil; Grasping and raising his tomahawk, he aimed to strike the head of his enemy, but it glanced and took off the and on the industry, commerce, manners, and thumb and fore-finger of the left hand. Each of the parties then had his butcher's knife left, and both were wounded. Both drew in a twinkling and rushed at each other; but Henry dodged the blow of the Indian who raised to strike, threw himself under him, as it were, clasped him round, and attemped to throw him. At last they fell side by side, and now it seemed that the final result of the combat must depend on which should be able to turn the other. The hand of the Indian was disabled, and Henry was already exhausted by the loss of blood from his breast. Seeing that all hope of preserving his life would soon be ended, each struggled to the uttermost. Fortunately the loss of part of the hand of the young warrior, gave his antagonist a decided advantage, and at length Henry turned him and got upon top. Gathering up his knees, he placed them upon the arms of the Indian, drew his large knife across his throat, with the utmost violence, and cut it from ear to ear. The brave fellow uttered a deep groan, his muscles relaxed, and he quickly expired. Henry rolled over by his side, and wholly overcome by the desperate effort in which he had been engaged, he soon became senseless. In this condition the two were found after the battle was over. Sweden. The literature of Iceland has lately become an object of research in Sweden and Norway; and the royal library at Stockholm possessing a great number of Iceland MSS. the Professor Lilliegren is now occupied in translating and preparing them for publication. The first volume has appeared, and a second is in great forwardness. We are reluctantly compelled to postpone several interesting bibliographical notices until our next number; in the meantime we renew the invitation to publishers and authors to forward their works without delay. ERRATA.--In the biographical sketch of General Hugh Mercer, published in the April number of the Messenger, an error occurred in the last paragraph, page 218, fifteenth line from the top. Instead of "Dolley," it should have been printed "Dolby," the venerable sexton's name. |