TO CORRESPONDENTS. Is the Author of "Edina" asleep? Si dormis, expergiscere. We can assure "Thespis," that we agree with him entirely in the opinion he expresses of Mr Abbot's acting, which displays at once the gentleman and the man of taste; and also of Mr Calcraft's Pierre, which was, in our opinion, not much less than a failure. At the same time, we would not wage war with people who think differently. Thespis's philippic against a late theatrical critique in the Scotsman ought, in fairness, to have been sent to the Editor of that paper. Suum cuique. We have been favoured with a long letter, containing a mild, yet picquant criticism of our last Number: we are just deliberating whether we should not astonish our readers with this sweet morceau, indicative at once of the gentleman and the " Projected History" writer. Verbum Vespa! Our review of Miladi's Italy in our last has brought about our ears all those worthy individuals who talk so doggedly about "principles," and yet bogle at an exposure of the most flagrant literary crimes. "An Hibernian" cannot suppose that we mean to take a bull by the horn. "Veritas's" expostulation is "a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." He knows more about cabbage than criticism. The letter of Scotus" is filled with those common-places, which brainless politicians, like himself, are eternally ringing changes on. We can assure each, and all of these cavalieri serventi, that we did not empty our green bag of one hundredth part of its contents, which we had treasured up against Miladi. We shall not return to the subject, however. Her book is dead already. Requiescat. The "Lawyer of C-n-s-y" is clever, pungent, and personal. We dare not insert it. Our ingenious Correspondent must know what happens to him who handles pitch. The poem "On the long Drought" is too dry for us; and in the epitaph on Bonaparte there is literally nothing. Pope did not always write good epitaphs; and we doubt if even that great master could have written one worthy of the Wonderful Exile, who now sleeps soundly, in a desart isle, beside the willows of a lonely fountain. challenge Lord Byron himself to produce any thing finer than the stanzas (from the French) in our present Number, entitled "NAPOLEON." We The conjectures of our Correspondent, as to the meaning of the words Tv MeyanıTv Epμoxaixocav0os, in Aristotle's Poetics, are profound and ingenious. These words have puzzled all the commentators and critics. "Desperant de hoc loco omnes," says Heinsius: "Neque ego tentandum puto QUICQUID CORRIGERE EST NEFAS." We promised in our last a notice of Sir R. Kerr Porter's travels, but we opine that the friend to whose hands we entrusted the ponderous tome of the wandering and pictorial knight has "ta'en the hint," and set out himself on a journey to Caucasus. If this be the real case, his morning slumbers will not, for sometime to come, be disturbed with the ominous reveillée,-" more copy wanted." We have reserved the admirable paper on the " Character and Writings of Tacitus" to grace our September number, and we entreat our able and learned Correspondent to proceed in filling up the outline which he has so happily sketched. "Old Mulberry on Quotations" is in retentis. By his "private" note, we perceive that he labours under a mistake, which will be corrected presently. We would only say to him, in the words of his friend Horace, "Sæpè stylum vertas, iterum quæ digna legi sint Scripturus; neque te, ut miretur turba, labores, The review of "Davy's Account of Ceylon," although in types, must stand over till next number. The paper on "The Queen" is, alas! too late: She has now gone to her own place, and her repose is no longer to be disturbed by the janglings of faction, or the cruelties and annoyances of persecutors. "After life's fitful fever she sleeps well." It is peculiar to that narrow and noiseless dormitory to which she has been consigned, that "the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." Every friend to humanity must, however, mourn that her funeral obsequies have been attended by the shedding of blood. A dreadful responsibility rests somewhere. The Correspondents of the EDINBURGH MAGAZINE AND LITERARY MISCELLANY are respectfully requested to transmit their Communications for the Editor to ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE and COMPANY, Edinburgh, or LONGMAN and COMPANY, London; to whom also orders for the Work should be particularly addressed. Printed by George Ramsay and Co. THE EDINBURGH MAGAZINE, AND LITERARY MISCELLANY. AUGUST 1821. BIBLIOGRAPHICAL, ANTIQUARIAN, AND PICTURESQUE TOURIN FRANCE AND GERMANY. THESE are, in every sense of the word, very extraordinary volumes : extraordinary, both from the quantity and quality of the matter which they contain, and not less so from the number, variety, and brilliance of the copper-plate embellishments by which they are adorned. We know not, indeed, if they may not be considered as a banquet, rich even to cloyness; but as people affect to despise in public what they privately relish and enjoy, we rather suspect that many who have cried out against turtle and venison on "high days and holidays," do not, in fact, make a point of acquainting their friends, on a private card of invitation, that the second course will "consist of a haunch of venison and kidney beans." So be it with the course of intellectual viands spread out before us :and we roundly assert, at the commencement of our critical carving, that these dishes are as inviting, from their garnishing, as dishes of this description can possibly be. Creamcoloured paper, hot-pressed to "the very turn, a large, round, and legible type, sustained by a whole phalanx of notes, in a more modest form of letter; a finely proportioned margin, assuming almost the saucy air of large paper; and embellishments of every species of subject and execution, make the eyes sparkle and the heart dance, as the paper-cutter performs its office of severing the crackling leaves. We have often, indeed, thought, that it was the very luxury and quintessence of a well-regulated literary taste, to sit down (having paid for our copy) to a book banquet of the description of that now before us. At one moment we are at Rouen; at another at Caen; now we are at Paris; afterwards at Strasbourg; here at Stuttgart; there at Vienna; while these several places are absolutely brought before our eyes, by the exquisite fidelity and spirit of the pencil of the artist who accompanied the reverend tourist. And then for the subject-matter, or the quoi dire! Sometimes we are gossipping with the canaille;-(with a few of whom, by the bye, we could have well dispensed,) at other times, we are holding discourse with country folks, philosophers, lettered gentlemen, curés, conjurors, monks, and abbots. Now, we are in a dank crypt of some halfmouldering cathedral; at another time, upon the summit of a castle or tower, gazing at meandering rivers, fertile meadows, and wooded heights: Anon, we are pacing "the studious cloister's pale," or are seated on oaken benches, in front of folios and quartos, and beneath the stained-glass of "storied windows," which cast a dim religious light." The works of past ages are arrayed in interminable rank and file before the author's eager eye; and he pounces upon this volume, or 66 |