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“ Elegy, the Blackbird,” and “ By the light of the Moon," will meet with all due consideration.
The Review of Dr Chalmers's “ Christian and Civic Economy of Large Torens" is again neccessarily postponed. The notice of Howison's Travels in Upper Canada, must likewise stand over till a future opportunity. We hope to be able to make up our lee-way in our next.
It won't do, Tég. We are sorry for it and for “ Miss ALL"
Two Dromios, by Jupiter ! Two votaries of the Nine, with the signature X. Y. Z. which we take to be Dutch for “ Ecce, my Wise Head !” To the first of these namesakes we have already told a bit of our mind, and have to inform the second, who describes himself as “ a Novus among poets,” and quotes Horace's “ Epistols" for our use and benefit, that his unbaptized poem is so good that we doubt its being original. We trust, however, that, the Attorney General of the tuneful sisterhood will not be so cruel as to indite Dromio Secundus for the reset of stolen goods.
“ Napoleon's Grave" will remain undisturbed, and undesecrated by us. If celebrared in verse by a bard equal to the theme, Napoleon must take his place beside Milton's Satan; and none but Milton could have painted Milton's Devil.
The Song by V., “ Air, It was a' for our rightfuking," will likely appear in our next. We know the hand, and, what is more, have a partiality to see it as often as possible. We think, however, the author's vocation is more decidedly to the humorous thạn the airy or pathetic.
“ The Maid of Barwoodlee" shows a practised hand. It is neat, simple, and na. tural-and-what will be thought more to the point--it shall appear in the Scots Magazine, which gives it a fair chance for immortality.
Francesca of Rimini,” translated from Dante's Inferno, Canto V. is executed in 'a very creditable manner indeed. The Spanish piece, from the original of Don José Cadalso, is quite delightful, and will appear as soon as we can make room for it. We have our doubts as to “ Francesca of Rimini.” Has the ingenious translator ever seen Cary's Dante ? It is no joke to travel the same ground with that accomplished and great master of poctical expression--whose translation indicates powers second only to the original. However, nous verrons.
J. D. has our thanks for “ Copy of a paper found in the Repositories of a person lately deccased, giving an account of the Siege by the Pretender, against Edinburgh Castle," which is in retentis.
“ Philosophus" will perceive that he has been anticipated. One of our men-at-arms has come forth, armed cap-à-pié, to encounter the “ LONDON.” The issue of the contest is not doubtful. Greater impudence, ignorance, vanity, and dogmatism, than R., the writer of the “ Popular Retrospect," displays, could hardly have been bundled together into the composition of one poor mortal. “ Philosophus" suggests that it is of Edinburgh parentage. He is wrong. No Scotchman would commit himself 80 rashly, or write such pitiful trash on the subject of Metaphysics. People here think before they write. Besides, our nationality would fain lead us to believe, that a native of this ancient kingdom would never have attempted to vilify the great ornaments of our Literature and Philosophy, or to speak of the most eloquent writer and profound scholar of his day, with a degree of vindictive virulence, the more remarkable and astonishing, as it manifests personal hatred to a Great Man, who, we formerly believed, had found in admirer in every one who had learned to read, and had not a personal enemy on earth. At all events, we shall teach the Bibliopolic Editor of the “ LONDOX" to have a care how he foisks into his pages popular or unpopular “ Retrospects” of the Literature and Science of this portion of the United Empire, and how he lends his publication to circulate calumny, absurdity, and nonsense. Let the author of the “ Popular Retrospect” read the splendid and profound account of Mr Stewart's Dissertation in the forthcoming Edinburgh Review, and then hide his diminished head.
We are happy to learn that we shall hear again from the author of the “ Adventure in Athens.” Let him, in future, be more merciful, and not murder his characters so unceremoniously. He talks of this too irreverently. Has he ever been among the Osmanlees ? He should recollect, that, in this country, it is not such a trifle as in Turkey, to infringe the sixth commandment.
A multiplicity of engagements has hitherto prevented us from dipping into “ Re. collections of a Journey from Kandy by the way of Adam Peak." We shall do so soon, and probably lay before our readers some portion of this Journal.
“ The Highland Hymeneal" is really too warm in the colouring. The author knows we admire the productions of his pen, and therefore must give us credit for expressing an honest opinion, when we assure him, that from those of Cowley, downwards, we hate the whole tribe of Pindarics; and though Gray's Odes may seem at first to form an exception to this sweeping condemnation, we are convinced, that, on second thoughts, our friend will agree with us in thinking, that, of all Gray's productions, his Pindaric Odes are the least known, and certainly the least relished. The reader of an English Pindaric Ode, and of a Lake Poet, is like the Dove sent forth from the Ark of old; he , wanders over an immense - expanse of floating material, and can find no green tree or mountain top on which to rest his weary feet. His brain is all in a whirl. He finds not the agreeable and simple varieties of nature, but the useless and grotesque caricatures of a Phantasmagoria. Modern languages are not susceptible of sufficient concentration and compression to render the Pindaric Ode sublime: and from the sublime to the ridiculous is only a step. We are not here chronicling the faults of our friend's performance, but stating the defects inseparable from the species of composition which he has attempted. We should, in the capacity in which we act, deserve to be marooned did we not honestly express our opinions respecting the productions of our personal friends, as well as respecting those with whose authors we are wholly unacquainted.
"A Constunt Rearler” has favoured us with his advice, which we take in very good part, because it is obviously well intended ; although, in our turn, we would recommend it to him to be in future a little more accurate with respect to facts. The " Monody in the near prospect of death,” so far from being thought “of. too sombre a cast for the generality of readers," was actually inserted in our September number, ncarly in the state in which we received it, and where the author will find it at p. 238. We still think that this production indicates both genius and feeling, and we have often, in private, warmly eulogized the tribute, contained in the first four or five stanzas, to the memory of the sweet but unfortunate poet of Lochleven. Is the author now satisfied ? Our Literary Notices for this month were printed before we received his note, containing a request, which shall meet due attention in our next.
It would be doing great injustice to our own feelings, no less than to our most ingenious and accomplished correspondent, were we not, most particularly and earnestly, to call the public attention to a poem in this Number, entitled “ Marius AMIDST Tue Ruins or CARTHAGE;" the finest specimen, perhaps, of poetical power and genius, which has yet adorned our pages.
By some accident, which we are puzzled to account for, the remainder of “ Fairy Legends” escaped our notice till too late to appear this month.
We have been favoured with various communications both from “ constant” and inconstant “ readers,” giving us advice gratis, for the right conducting of this work. Of course, we are in duty bound to say we are grateful for the ultronious monitions of these worthy persons; and we say so accordingly. We would only subjoin, that the most effectual mode of advising us for our benefit, is by transmitting us able and clever contributions.
We believe it is common for Editors to address a few words to gentle readers, and kind friends, at this season of the year. Yet we fairly confess we are at a great loss what to say. Should we imitate the example of some of our Metropolitan contemporaries, and be-praise and be-puff our own labours, the public would laugh at us as heartily as at them. On the other hand, were we to clothë ourselves in sackcloth, put ashes on our head, and, in a tone of supplicating humility, to confess our errors and defects, we should be instantly and justly set down as canting hypocrites, and treated accordingly. This is very hard ; yet we do feel ourselves between the Scylla and Charybdis of a dilemma. There is just one door of emancipation, however, and that is, by stating the plain unvarnished truth. Our corps is hourly recruiting, both in numbers and in effective intellectual power ; while those who have been longest in our service are daily acquiring tact and experience, and, in a little time longer, will be veterans. The number of volunteers, too, is quite prodigious, and, for all the world, resembles those Highland Risings, in the glorious days of patriarchal brotherhood and feudal attachment, when the Breadalbanes, the Frasers, the Macleods, the Mackays, and the Morar Chattus of other times, could, in ten days, raise as many hundred men for the defence of their King, and the Honour of their Chief. In such circumstances, the difficulty and the delicacy is to select. If possible, we would try to please all our kind friends, who 'devote their time and talents to our service. If we fail, we can't help it: it was said of a celebrated youth of antiquity, '“ magnis tamen excidit ausis.” Meanwhile, we have received many flattering testimonials in our favour, both from friends and enemies. The former admit spontaneously and cordially, that we are rising: the latter feel our progress, and satisfy us it is real, by their eagerness to abuse us. The Editor can assure his readers, that no efforts shall be spared to keep the machine moving with a constantly accelerated velocity. Indeed, every motive of honour, interest, and reputation, stimulate him on to exertion and enterprise a duty, the discharge of which will, however difficult, be always refreshing and agreeable, when he reflects on the resources he commands, and the firm support which he can rely on. It only remains, therefore, to return his best thanks to his numerous and able Contributors, for the support they have already given, and still promise to continue
and to the Public in general, for the very fas vourable manner in which his labours have hitherto been received.
rious monuments of ancient days shall be gathered together, and barbarian
spoilers, iconoclasts, and plunderers, HYDELS PARTICULSNICS,
shall be compelled to surrender the
sacrilegious despoilings of the TemIn coinmon with the abhorred sons ples of Freedom. The Genius of of Othman, I believe that every Greece shall, phenix-like, arise from event is determined by an irreversible her ashes, and the brilliant sun of decree. Exiled from the country liberty shine on those mountains, of my fathers—from that beloved; vallies, and scenes, which patriotism oppressed, unhappy, but still glori- has illustrated, and poetry immorous Greece, “the clime of the unfor- talised. The dust and ashes of the gotten brave” and condemned to almost tenantless sepulchres shall pass the few miserable days that re- yield forth the spirits of those whose main to me on the face of the earth as bodies they once entombed, and the a fugitive and an outlaw-on whose very stones cry for vengeance and forehead every passer-by may disco- emancipation from the crazy but acver the mark of Cain-I yet feel cursed despotism of the worshipsomething resembling a throb or pers of the Prophet. This, if you pulse of delight vibrate in my heart, call it a delusive, is, at least, a splenwhen I call to mind, not that the did vision, from which flows fortle guilt of my individual crimes shall a halo of anticipated glory, bright ebe laid to the immutable ordination nough to irradiate even a darker spirit and prescription of fate, but that than mine. Awto reades rev Ezanvão ! "Greece may yet be free," and that But no vision of future regeneration the hour—the long-looked for hour and renown can dispel or disenchant of her renovation is at hand. Yes, the present dreadful reality. Greece by the awful spirits of our forefa- still remains prostrate at the feet of thers, who bled at Marathon, Salamis, her barbarian oppressors, and the Thermopylæ, and Platæa, Greece blood of her best, because bravest shall yet raise her head once more sons, is profusely flowing under the among the nations; and minds, now scimitars of a timorous, and there obscured, buried, and enthralled by fore cruel despotism. Even my heart the cruelest and most remorseless bleeds when I think of the price despotism ever inflicted by the spirit which must be paid for freedom. "Oh! of evil as a curse on humanity, shall that I could yet strike a blow for life burst the fetters of their bondage, and and death against the remorseless come forth, like giants freshened and Moslems ! But since that may
not be, invigorated by long repose, to astonish I ask, with that truly noble English and delight the world. The broken poet whose soul burns with the diand scattered fragments of the glo- vine enthusiasm and the lofty e.o.
quence of our own Plato himself, and either asked or given. Furious at bewho is a Greek in feeling, if not in ing robbed, by the hoary ruffian, of my country,
favourite steed, I met my enemy one And where are they? And where art day on the banks of the Ilissos, and thou,
hard by the Enneakrounos. He was My country ? On thy voiceless shore a man of small stature, feeble, cowardThe heroic lay is tuneless now,
ly, treacherous, and, from excessive The heroic bosom beats no more ! sensuality, as hysterical and nervous
as a Frenchwoman. He looked as if Must wc but weep o'er days more blest ?
he would sooner have encountered Eb. Must we but blush ? Our fathers bled !
lis himself, and had Azraël appeared Earth! render back from out thy breast
before him with the fatal dart from A remnant of our Spartan dead ! Of the three hundred, grant but three,
“his deadly quiver,” he could not To make a new Thermopylæ.
have been seized with greater tremWhat! silent still ? and silent all ?
bling and terror. He knew my his
tory well enough to be convinced Ah! no;- the voices of the dead that he had done wrong to incense Sound like a distant torrent's fall,
I upbraided the miserable And answer, “Let one living head
craven with the act of bare-faced But once arise-we come, we come! 'Tis but the living who are dumb."
robbery, and, in the uncalculating
passion of the moment, threatened You will doubtless recollect that I to pluck him by the beard, the most formerly promised to gratify your inexpiable insult that can be offered very proper desire to know the to a Moslem. His dark eye lowered exact particulars of that daring, des- with a dreadful expression of hatred perate, and successful act of ven and meditated revenge-he mustered geance, which marked me out for up courage enough to set his teeth destruction from the Othman govern- together, and squeeze out the words, ment, and which excited, as the dog, Giaour, Greek, when observing Franks say, so great a sensation my hand on that Damascus blade throughout the whole of Greece. I (the gift of Ali Pasha, bestowed in am the more anxious to redeem this the field of battle) which had never pledge, and to put you in possession failed me at my need, and which, of every circumstance connected with to speak the truth, was no stranthe bold and perilous deed now allu- ger to Moslem blood, he instantded to; as the employment of writa ly put spurs to his horse and scam. ing, by controlling my associations, pered off. Forgiveness is no Turke and diverting the morbid current of ish infirmity. Though he was too my thoughts, may prevent my restless cowardly to attempt public, I knew spirit from absolute annihilation, by he would seek secret revenge, and perpetual commerce with its own took precautions extraordinary to degloomy and desponding imaginations, feat the purposes of his malignity, and, at the same time, enable me to I dismissed my 'servants, some of correct some false impressions, which whom were Arnaoots, and not to be I have reason to know you have re- trusted. I boarded myself in the ceived of the events of that fearful Monastery of St Spiridion, the papas hour which sealed the fate of the ac- Urban being an ancient friend of my cursed Disdar Agà of Athens. family's. I never went abroad un
You already know that I had been less doubly armed, and carefully only a short time returned from avoided a meeting with the Voivode Constantinople, whither I had been when attended, as was almost always secretly dispatched on a mission of the case. Signor Logotheti, the Eng such importance, that even to you, lish consul, and an Englishman of the Panhellenios, whose mind is spotless name of Tweddell, to whom I had as the snow on Pindus or Ida, I dare rendered some services, and whose not reveal its nature or object—some frank, generous, and manly characbickering took place between myself ter I admired and loved, were, at and the Voivode, concerning a'fine first, the only persons I ventured to Arab courser, which he had caused entrust with the secret of my retreat. his people to remove from my stables, Devoted to books and study, and ocfor his own use, and without leave casionally cheered by the society of