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ty, as our old friend Jeremy very pro- appearing as periodically as the seasons

perly denominates it. Sylvanus should themselves, - Epigrams which look as it have superintended our obituaries. dismal as epitaphs, and songs which

Horace Walpole might have arranged seem elegies miscalled, are the ordiI our nicknacks; and Voltaire, who nary stuff of which the venerable Syl

would have been delighted at the idea vanus weaves his monthly chaplet of of writing in our Magazine, might poetical flowers. It must certainly

have officiated as our jack of all trades.' have been a most comfortable and so:: Our readers will observe we say no- lacing reflection to the young manuE thing of the author of Junius. We are facturers of these useful articles, thein

above mysteries, but there is a delica- genious youths of sixty years ago, who . cy in this case which restrains us. In now, alas ! having lost the fire of their

fact, to tell the truth, we wrote the younger days, write for the Edinburgh st book ourself, when our politics and Review, and “My Grandmother,” to 1: our principles were not properly fixed. think that such a good-natured reposi

We must, however, observe, as a kind tory was extant, which, like the poors' ris of corollary to the preceding, that there box in a church, was continually open sis is yet another instance in which our for the contributions of the well-dispolo modesty has prevented us from coming sed. But now, indeed, Tempora mutanopenly forward, and receiving in our tur et nos mutamur in illis. Editors

person the acclamations and plau- are grown hard hearted, and constant dits of the world. There is yet another readers, as well as constant writers,

instance in which our possession of plead in vain. We will not number lu Gyges's Ring has procured us the the hosts of young men, smit with

immunities of invisibility. This ex- the love of poetry and pratè,” whose creme

cusable instance--but no-we will not hearts we have broken by our repeated anticipate, or withdraw the veil-we refusals, sometimes, indeed, embittered will leave it to futurity to determine with the shafts of our wit, yet really what is this third and greatest claim of the number is quite alarming. We Christopher North to pre-eminence in are not without our fears of awaking letters.

some night, like King Richard the But we are, in the mean time, di- Third, to see our victims pass in regressing entirely from the subject; a view before us, upbraiding us with mode of writing, to use the phrase of our cruelty. We wish, too, we had that eminent auctioneer Mr Smirk, not similar cruelties to the fair sex to pleasant, but wrong."

We began charge ourselves with ; yet such is the with Sylvanus, and we have ended melancholy case. It is an ascertained with ourselves, a topic certainly inex- fact, that two sempstresses died within haustible. In short, good reader, what the last month of a decline, into which champaigne is to homely black strap, our neglect of the Odes of the one and are we when compared with our wor-. the Stanzas of the other had precipi. thy predecessor. Nevertheless, there tated them. We are accused of being are times and seasons when plain severe; but we assure our readers, that

dishes are grateful to the palate, and, no sooner were we made acquainted after the filash and glare of our pages, with their melancholy situation, than

may not be unamusing to look back we hobbled out as fast as our gouty the sober and serious miscellany of limbs allowed us, to be the messenger Sylvanus, who, good man! takes care of glad tidings to them, and offer them, mat his guests shall never injure their if necessary for their recovery, the health by interdicted spiceries. We long-desired admission.

We were, will

, therefore, with thy permission, however, too late. “Mr North,” said gentle friend, just tumble over one of them, “ your kind attention coronation volume for the year is unavailing; we are now going fast 161. And first of all, we must ob- to the bourne, from which, to use the ave, that the poetry is sad stuff. It expression of Shakspeare, no traveller all of that particular sort which returns ; yet, why should we deny it, either gods nor men are said to per- it would be some consolation to us uit. Tales, Acrostics, Verses to Miss before we die, to see ourselves in Miss B. and all the Misses in the Blackwood's Magazine. We should phabet,—Odes to Narcissa, Næra, then have finished our concerns on this Moe

, and other names of classical no- side of the grave.” Our good readers nety,--Stanzas on the Four Seasons, will believe that we could not refuse


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Vol. X.

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them a request under such circum- devised, through which, as through a stances. Even we, albeit unused to common sewer, these bad humours of the melting mood, were dissolved into young and old may meet with an untears, when we took leave of these two obstructed passage. Thus shall we see interesting young creatures. Their many walk lighter along the streets, parting request it was not in our power who now seem as if pressed and weighto perform. They died, alas ! before ed to the earth by some unaccountable the 20th of the month, without having internal force of heaviness acting upon that felicity to which they so anxious- them like the night-mare, and, in ly looked. All this is very melancholy, short, the spirit of cheerfuluess, ease, i we wish we could say it was not very freedom, and self-enjoyment will be true. We should certainly have im- diffused through his Majesty's domimortalized their memory, as we have nions. As an inducement to the hapdone that of Sir Daniel Donelly, by a py person who first seizes upon this Luctus expressly for the occasion; but bright idea which we have here thrown the coronation intervening, we thought out for the benefit of the world of lithe expression of sorrow at such a pe- terature, we hereby promise to set him riod would have been indecorous and up with two MSS. poems of Leigh disloyal, and have therefore abandoned Hunt, some unpublished verses by the idea. We feel yet the remem- Lord Byron, and several ditto by our brance of this sad event casts a damp excellent friend the Patriarch Jeremy, upon our spirits, and we will accordwho has taken to the writing of poetry ingly drop the subject.

in a most extraordinary manner of late, We were speaking of Sylvanus and and who now sends us regularly conhis poetry. It would really have done tributions of this description, the posthim good to look into our repository age of which, we are sorry to say, he for rejected verse, a heap which does not as regularly discharge. Ne has been gradually and prodigiously vertheless, this is excusable enough ir accumulating for the last four years, an old man like him, whose memory and now shews a bulk “ like Teneriffe was never of the best. or Atlas unremoved.” There would But let us now see what the gooi have been matter enough to supply Sylvanus has got in the way of prose his poetical corner for twenty years, It is but homely stuff, but it is un and such matter, too, as the old gentle- questionably better than his poetry man would have jumped at. We can- Yet, “ Interesting Queries concernin not help observing by the way, that, the Dutch,” “New Project for inclo notwithstanding the great number of sing the Common Land,"

* « Account Magazines and periodical works, there a Cure for a Cold,” “Some Proceed is yet one desideratum, and that is, ings in the last Session of Parliament, a Repository expressly for dull or “Narrative of the Attempt on Be middling poetry. We are confident it leisle,” and “ Description of a terrib would have a prodigious sale, and we Shipwreck,” are amongst some of t) should certainly recommend it as a most attracting contents of his Misce good speculation to Mr Colburn, or lany. These, we have a notion, wou Messrs Taylor and Hessey. It is a look rather curious by the side of" thing much wanted. The mighty Hour's Tête-a-tête with the Public pent

up mass of dullness, to adopt the or the intrepid Standard-bearer's Bo phrase of that well known resolution iana. The story of Almoran and I of the House of Commons," has in- met would hardly pair well either w creased, is increasing, and ought to be the “ Ayrshire Legatees," diminished.” We, of course, never “ Steam-Boat.” People now-a-di admit any portion of it into our pages. grow sick at the names of Omar, < The London Magazine, and the New Abdallah, and Caled, and feel no g Monthly, take off a great deal, and the desire to traverse the plains of Cir other periodicals still more; yet the sia, even with a Genius at hand to part taken has but a very small pro- struct them. `Mountains and for portion to the part left. It is like now rather pall the stomach, and “ paying off the interest of the national of man” inevitably gives us the debt, and even those who contribute pours. The time is past when to its reduction feel it as a tax. We old men saw visions, and the yo therefore think it absolutely necessary men dreamed dreams. Visions that some public channel should be only make us shut our eyes, and dre



u be set us instantly a-sleeping. That use- now employed, need only to look into å tex ful class of the community who would the Edinburgh Review. ta dream you a dream of six columns as But, after all, Sylvanus must be conis the regularly as the week came on, is now, sidered as one of the sages of literature; the like the tribe of scriveners, extinct, and we shall be quite satisfied if we čiame though, in both cases, the same thing are enabled to continue our career as Les is revived under another denomination. long as he has done, and, throughout ssas The writers on politics have taken up the whole period, be regarded with as rare, i the falling nantle; and he who wishes much uniform respect and esteem by riches to see how the old sect of dreamers are the Gentlemen of England.

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MY DEAB North,

“ Hail, Muse! et cetera. We left Juan As I know you have a confounded sleeping, moral ill will at Byron, and lately Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast, threw yourself into a devil of a passion

And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew at his racketting boy, Don Juan, I

weeping, bel t have determined, before you can get

And loved by a young heart, too deeply

blest 16 the three new Cantos, to put it out of To feel the poison through her spirit creepyour power, for a month at least, to

ing, say one uncivil word on the subject- Or know who rested there; a foe to rest mat For you will not venture to reject any Had soil'd the current of her sinless years, mens communication of mine; and two ar- And turn’d her pure heart's purest blood PORTE-ticles on the same topic, is what you

to tears. CT will never permit in the same number. “Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours intens This afternoon, as I was at dinner, an Which makes it fatal to be loved ? Ah, aika unknown porter brought me a copy of

why wlixu the book-what bookseller sent it he With cypress branches hast thou wreathed either would not or could not tell, but

thy bowers, Tube : I have no doubt, when I get my bill As those who dote on odours pluck the

And made thy best interpreter a sigh? 57 from Murray, I shall find it there. At

flowers, bu the sight of Don Juan, I need not say And place them on their breast, but and that the dissection of joint and fowl

place to die Tie was instantly abandoned, even had I Thus the frail beings we would fondly not been seized with the determination

cherish to anticipate the severity of your stric- Are laid within our bosoms but to perish.” tures, by immediately sitting down to This, you must allow, is pretty

try if I could get this sketchy critique enough, and not at all objectionable in ceny off by the post.

a moral point of view. I fear, however, & In the first place, then, Christopher, that I cannot say so much for what ** I take leave to insist that these three follows; marriage is nojoke, and there

cantos are like all Byron's poems, and, fore not a fit subject to joke about ; by the way, like every thing else in besides, for a married man to be merry

this world, partly good, and partly on that score, is very like trying to i bad. In the particular descriptions, overcome the pangs of the toothache Let they are not quite so naughty as their by affecting to laugh.

predecessors ; indeed his Lordship has "Men grow ashamed of being so very fond; Ech been so pretty and well behaved on They sometimes also get a little tired,

the present occasion, that I should not (But that, of course, is rare,) and then dee surprised to hear of the work being

spond : detected among the thread-cases, flow

The same things cannot always be ad

mired; de-pots, and cheap tracts, that litter the

Yet 'tis 6 so nominated in the bond,” drawing-room tables of some of the

That both are tied till one shall have i best regulated families. But to the

expired. Work itself.—The third canto opens Sad thought! to lose the spouse that was with a reference to the condition in

adorning which the hero and Haidée were left Our days, and put one's servants into at the conclusion of the second.


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". Don Juan ; Cantos III, IV, and V. London : Printed by Thomas Davison, Whitefriars. 1821.

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“ There's doubtless something in domestic And flasks of Samian and of Chian wine, doings,

And sherbet cooling in the porous vase; Which forms, in fact, true love's anti- Above them their dessert grew on its thesis ;

vine, Romances paint at full length people's The orange and pomegranate nodding o'er, wooings,

Dropp'd in their laps, scarce pluck’d, their But only give a bust of marriages ;

mellow store. For no one cares for matrimonial cooings,

" A band of children, round a snow-white There's nothing wrong in a connubial


There wreath his venerable horns with Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's

Rowers ; wife, He would have written sonnets all his life? While, peaceful, as if still an unwean'd


The patriarch of the flock all gently " Haidée and Juan were not married, but The fault was theirs, not mine: it is not His sober head, majestically tame, fair,

Or eats from out the palm, or playful Chaste reader, then, in any way to put

lowers The blame on me, unless you wish they His brow, as if in act to butt, and then, were ;

Yielding to their small hands, draws back Then if you'd have them wedded, please again. to shut

Their classical profiles, and glittering The book which treats of this erroneous

dresses, pair,

Their large black eyes, and soft seraphic Before the consequences grow too awful ;

cheeks, 'Tis dangerous to read of loves unlawful.” Crimson as cleft pomegranates, their long

tresses, The piratical father of Haidée,

The gesture which enchants, the eye 66 detained

that speaks, “ By winds and waves, and some import- The innocence which happy childhood ant captures,"

blesses, having remained long at sea, it was Made quite a picture of these little supposed he had perished, and she, in Greeks ; consequence, took possession of all his So that the philosophical beholder treasures, and surendered herself to Sigh'd for their sakes—that they should the full enjoyment of her lover. The e'er grow older.” old gentleman, however, returns, and The father is not at all pleased to landing on a distant part of the island, see such fatal doings in his absence. walks leisurely towards his home, while Juan and his daughter are giving a

Perhaps you think in stumbling on this

feast, public breakfast to their friends and He flew into a passion ; and in fact, acquaintance. The description of the There was no mighty reason to be pleased ; fete is executed with equal felicity and Perhaps you prophesy some sudden act. spirit; we think it would be difficult to match the life and gaiety of the pic- “ You're wrong.

He was the mildestture by any thing of the kind in Eng

manner'd man lish poetry—perhaps in any other po- That ever scuttled ship, or cut a throat ; etry.

With such true breeding of a gentleman, “And further on a group of Grecian girls, You never could divine his real thought. The first and tallest Ker white kerchief

waving, Were strung together like a row of pearls ;

Advancing to the nearest dinner tray, Link'd

hand in hand, and dancing; each Tapping the shoulder of the nighest guest too, having

With a peculiar smile, which, by the way. Down her white neck long floating auburn Boded no good, whatever it express’d, curls_

He ask'd the meaning of this holiday ; (The least of which would set ten poets

The vinous Greek to whom he had ad raving ;) Their leader sang-and bounded to her His question, much too merry to divine

The questioner, fill'd up a glass of wine.' song, With choral step and voice, the virgin And facetiously looking over his shoul throng.

der, said, " And here, assembled cross-legg'd round

“ Talking's dry work, and our old mas Small social parties just begun to dine;

ter's dead.” Pilaus and meats of all sorts met the gaze, This certainly was not very pleasan


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C: information to the pirate, who, as well Had cost his enemies a long repentance, man as other parents, would have liked to And made him a good friend, but bad acgeu have heard his memory more solemnly quaintance.

respected, but he suppressed his anger “ But something of the spirit of old Greece

well as he could, and inquired the Flash'd o'er his soul a few heroic rays, plast name of the new master who had turn- Such as lit onward to the Golden Fleece

ed Haidée into a matron. To this, how- His predecessors in the Colchian days. 3.694ever, he received but a very so-so an- 'Tis true he had no ardent love for peace

Alas! his country show'd no path to " He ask'd no further questions, and pro- Hate to the world and war with every na

praise ; ceeded

tion 20 0 On to the house.

He waged, in vengeance of her degrada

tion. chd: “He entered in the house no more his home,

« Still o'er his mind the influence of the 19. A thing to human feelings the most trying, clime 1. C# And harder for the heart to overcome, Shed its Ionian elegance, which show'd Perhaps, than even the mental pangs of Its power unconsciouslyfull many a time, dying:

A taste seen in the choice of his abode, Bad To find our hearthstone turn'd into a tomb, A love of music and of scenes sublime, And round its once warm precincts, palely A pleasure in the gentle stream that lying

flow'd The ashes of our hopes, is a deep grief, Past him in crystal, and a joy in flowers, Iste Beyond a single gentleman's belief.

Bedew'd his spirit in his calmer hours."

Lambro, for so it seems he was call“ He entered in the house

his home no

ed, passed, unseen, a private gate, zatst For without hearts there is no home--and and stood within the hall where his felt

daughter and her lover were at table. The solitude of passing his own door

This affords the noble poet an opporWithout a welcome. There he long had tunity to show his knowledge of a dwelt,

Greek gentleman's house and an OttoThere his few peaceful days Time had man feast. But the merits of this still swept o'er;

life, splendid and true as they are in There his worn bosom and keen eye would delineation and colouring, are far inmelt

ferior to the description of Haidée. Over the innocence of that sweet child, His only shrine of feeling undefiled.”

“ Round her she made an atmosphere of

life, The portrait of this man is one of bines the best, if not the very best, of all

The very air seem'd lighter from her Byron's gloomy portraits. It may be

eyes, is the Corsair grown into an elderly cha: They were so soft and beautiful, and rife

With all we can imagine of the skies, boleh peracter and a father, but it is equal to And pure as Psyche ere she grew a wifeLoide the finest heads that ever Michael An

Too pure even for the purest human gelo

, Carrivagio, painted with black the sand umber.

Her overpowering presence made you feel "He was a man of a strange temperament, It would not be idolatry to kneel. Of mild demeanour, though of savage mood,

“ Her eyelashes, though dark as night, Moderate in all his habits, and content

were tinged, With temperance in pleasure as in food; For those large black eyes were so blackly

(It is the country's custom,) but in vain Quick to perceive, and strong to bear, and

fringed, For something better, if not wholly And in their native beauty stood avenged :

The glossy rebels mock'd the jetty stain, good; His country's wrongs, and his despair to

Her nails were touch'd with henna; but save her,

again Ive Had stung him from a slave to an enslaver.

The power of art was turn'd to nothing, for * The love of power, and rapid gain of They could not look more rosy than before. gold,

" The henna should be deeply dyed to The hardness by long habitude produced,

make bissa The dangerous life in which he had grown

The skin relieved appear more fairly old,

mercy he had granted oft abused, She had no need of this, day ne'er will The sights lie was accustom’d to behold,

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break The wild seas, and wild men, with whom On mountain tops more heavenly whire he cruised,

than her:


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