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"No track of men, no footsteps to and Dingy and thread bare, though' renew'd fro,

in patches Led to her gates. The path lay o'er the Till it has almost ceased to be the old one. sea,

I am a poet, Signor:--give me leave levisible; and from the land we went To bid you welcome. Though you shrink is to a floating City,-steering in,

from notice, And gliding up her streets as in a dream, The splendour of your name has gone be& smoothly, silently,—by many a dome

fore you; Hosque like, and many a stately portico, And Italy from sea to sea rejoices, The statues ranged along an azure sky; As well indeed she may! But I trans. By marry a pile of more than eastern gress, splendour,

I too have known the weight of praise, Ofold the residence of merchant kings;

and ought The fronts of some, though Time had to spare another.” shatter'd them,

Saying so, he laid.
Sall glowing with the richest hues of art, His sonnet, an impromptu, on my table,
As though the wealth within them had If his, then Petrarch must have stolen it
run o'er."

from him,

And bow'd and left me; in his hollow
This brief and pretty sketch of the hand
Vintage at Como is likewise too excel. Receiving my small tribute, a zecchino,
leut to be omitted.

Unconsciously, as doctors do their fee."
* Along the shores, among the hills 'tis We wish that our limits would ad-

mit of our giving the sketch entitled The hey-day of the Vintage; all abroad, Foscari, because we think the amBat most the young and of the gentler plest justice has been done to that sex,

fine subject. To the poet we should Bess in gathering; all among the vines,

think this must have been the trial of Some on the ladder and some underneath, strength. He had to contend, in Filling their baskets of green wickerwork,

adopting it, with a mighty Giant in While many a canzonet and frolic laugh

the same course; and it is no small Come through the leaves; the vines in praise or honour that he has not used light testoons

his sling in vain. The Goliah of a cer. From tree to tree, the trees, in avenues,

tain poetic phalanx has not routed the And every avenue a covered walk, champion of a better cause. The deHong with black clusters. 'Tis enough scription of

to make The sad map merry, the benevolent one “ The venerable man, fourscore and upMelt into tears, -30 general is the joy!

wards” While np and down the cliffs, over the is pathetic and natural, and that of

lake, Wains, oxen-drawn, and pannier'd mules his adored and persecuted child,“ with

faint and broken accent,” murmuring are seen, Laden with grapes, and dropping, rosy “ Father” upon the wheel

, is as affectwine."

ing and excellent as the more laboured

and lengthy illustration that Lord The following also, descriptive of a Byron has lately favoured us with on

sort of men" who make their bows to the same occurence. But as we canstrangers with a flattery of verse to not do justice to the theme by giving #in their potice, may be no unpleasant only a part, any more than we could specimen of our author's tact in a less describe Pompey's Pillar, or the Parsedate style of writing than the pre- thenon, by exhibiting a handful of the teuing. To our “ poor thinking” there ingredients that compose them, we is something exceedingly pleasing and pass on to another of these tales which Daylul in the ostrich like poet of from it's brevity we can extract, and

which we think is admirably and inte" But who now

restingly told. The story we have elseEnters the chamber, flourishing a scroll

where read, butour recollection deserts la bis right hand, his left at every step

us where. We have no objection, howBrushing the floor with what was once a ever, to have it again before us in anohat

ther shape, nor are we so fastidious as Of teremony? Gliding on, he comes ;

some of our critical brethren have afSky shod, ungarter'd; his long suit of fected to be to object to the simplicity black

and the “ trite and infantile style".

" La. Mag. Tol, si. Feb. 1822.





which characterizes it's coinmence- She was all gentlepess, all gaiety, ment. We don't think the worse of a Her pranks the favourite theme of every beautiful mansion because we have

tongue. had to pass by helige rows and cot- But now the day was come, the day, the

hour; tages to reach it. But to the tale.

Now, frowning, smiling for the hundredth “ If ever you should come to Modena,

time, Where among other relics you may see The nurse, that ancient lady, preached Tassoni's bucket,--but 'tis not the true decorum; one,

And, in the lustre of her youth, she Stop at a palace near the Reggio gate,

gave Dwelt in of old by one of the Dodati. Her hand, with her heart in it, to FranIt's noble gardens, ---terrace above terrace,

Great was the joy; but at the nuptial And rich in fountains, statues, cypresses, feast, Will long detain you,-but, before you go, When all sate down, the bride herself was Enter the house,- forget it not I pray wanting. you, -

Nor was she to be found ! her father And look a while upon a picture there.

cried, 'Tis of a lady in her earliest youth,

( 'Tis but to make a trial of our love!' The last of that illustrious family ; And filld his glass to all; but his hand Done by Zampieri,-but by whom I care shook, not.

And soon from guest to guest the panic He, who observes it,-ere he passes on,

spread, Gazes his fill, and comes and comes again, 'Twas but that instant she had left Frane, That he may call it up, when far away.She sits inclining forward as to speak, Laughing, and looking back, and flying Her lips dalt open, and her tinger up,

still, As though she said “Beware!” her vest Her ivory tooth imprinted on his finger. of gold

But now, alas, she was not to be found, Broider'd with flowers and clasp'd from Nor from that hour could any thing be head to foot,

guess'd, An emerald stone in every golden clasp; But that she was not! And on her brow, fairer than alabaste

Weary of his life, A coronet of pearls.

Francesco flew to Venice, and embark. But then her face,

ing, So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, Flung it away in battle with the Turk. The overflowings of an innocent heart, Donati lived,--and long might you have It haunts me still, though many a year has

seen, fied,

An old man wandering as in quest of Like some wild melody!

something, Alone it hangs Something he could not find,--he knew Over a mouldering heir-loom, it's compa- not what. nion,

When he was gone, the house remain'd An open chest, half eaten by the worm,

awhile But richly carved by Anthony of Trent, Silent and tenantless,-then went to With scripture stories from the Life of strangers. Christ;

Full fifty years were past and all for. A chest that came from Venice and had

gotten held

When on an idle day, a day of search The ducal robes of some old Ancestor,- Mid the old lumber in the gallery, That by the way,-it may be true or That mouldering chest was noticed, and false,

'twas said, But don't forget the picture; and you will By one as young, as thoughless as Ginevra, not,

Why not remove it from it's lurking When you have heard the tale they told place?' me there.

'Twas done as soon as said; but on the She was an only child,- her name Gine.


It burst, it fell; and lo! a skeleton, The joy, the pride of an indulgent fa- With here and there a pearl, an emerald ther;

stone, And in her fifteenth year became a bride, A golden clasp, clasping a shred of gold. Marrying an only son, Francesco Doria, All else had perísh'd,

---save a wedding Her playmate from her birth, and her first ring, love.

And a small seal, her mother's legacy, Just as she looks there in her bridal Engraven with a name, the name of both, dress,

* Ginevra."


There then had she found a grave! We have, in conclusion, to observe, Within that chesi had she conceal'd her that we are taugbt to expect a second

self, Flattering with joy, the happiest of the be enabled to render unto Cæsar the

part of this poem. We hope then to happy, When a spring lock, that lay in ambush feel more inclined than we now are to

things that belong to him, and sball there, Fasten d her down for ever!”

'tell one who comes forward beneath Sedilnmus, 0 scñ comitesque,---letus on,

a mask, of the faults that disfigure his kentle readers; for it would be rank production: for we cannot conceive, fasour were we to admit this anony

since he has not, as Terence has it, mously clever being to usurp the made great efforts for great trifles, that whole of our critical department. there will be the slightest cause in fuWe trust we have given him fullchance ture to draw a veil over his appellato ingratiate himself with our rea

tions. Like the black knight in Ivanders, and we hope that our quotations, hoe, he has awakened curiosity and like the first two or three glasses of proved bis prowess, and although he real Falernian, will act to them as en

may not be in poetry, what Cour de tivements to larger potations, and be Lion was in arms, we are quite assured the means of encouraging a closer ac- he need feel little apprehension by quaintance with the hooded author of withdrawing his vizor or announcing * Italy,even though no name of

his title. power, nor badge of nobility, heads

S. W. X. Z. ihe van of his array.

May You Like It. By a Country Curate. 12mo. 272. London, 1822. It will, we hope, be considered as are merely negative, and may be told no impeachment of that impartiality in half a dozen words. We could have - which we are so studiously, and so wished, then, that the author had exconstantly desirous of maintaining hibited some of his characters under pure and unattackable, when we state happy circumstances, because, though our prepossession in favour of this very it is good to demonstrate that religion interesting little Volume, even before sustains us under all afflictions, it is perusing a single page of it's contents. not advisable to paint the religious alWill our friends hold us entirely ex- ways as the suffering; as it leads to eused, if we also say, that this prepos- an involuntary association of what is session was excited by a most tempt- not a necessary consequence; and ing frontispiece, in which all the thus alarms the wavering and timid charms of rural beauty, quiet, and re- from the supposed rough and thorny tirement are depicted in a style and path of virtue. manner, that impressed us with every

These tales are all of familiar scenes, feeling which the work itself is so weil and consist of “ Rosine, A Merchant's calculated to excite? Certain it is we Son, Naomi, A Merchant's Wife, The were thus captivated; and though we Childhood of Charles Spencer, Two might not have told this story under Young Mothers, The Brothers,” and any other circumstances, yet upon the some poetical pieces. Naomi is not only present occasion we feel gratified in our's, but we believe the most general owning, that our love at first sight has favourite, though The Brothers, of alnot deceived us. The author is, we most equal merit, appears to be the understand, a young Clergyman of more eligible specimen of the author's Suffolk, who, as the tales before us talents : and we shall preface it only do equal honour to his taste, bis ge- by observing that his style is easy nius, and his piety, will, we trust, not and pure, his narrative natural and long remain anonymous. The chief affecting, and every moral of every beauties of the Volume are simplicity tale calculated to teach the young and pathos, and even from the very that happiness here and hereafter debrief extract which our limits will pends on virtue. We need not add allow, it will be seen that it is imbued another word to assure parents that with these qualities in no common this is an excellent volume for rising degree. While it's defects,- for it families. would be contrary to critical etiquette “ It was a cold, gloomy day, and the not to find some fault,--it's defects rain fell fast; yet Arthur Western re. Nay You Like It.

Fus, mained leaning against the wall, in one of in my presence. I well see how friendless those narrow dark alleys near Newgate; he is, and I will certainly not forsake the large plashing eaves' drops fell on his him.''. But your mother and sisters, so shoulder, till they soaked into his sleeve; you can leave them unprotected, and my still he did not stir; he felt his eye-balls ex- daughter too, sir; consider, sir, her panded, and his throat parched; he could attachment for you : remember my conscarcely think, for a dead weighit seemed versation with you last night, when I as, pressed upon all his mental faculties. Ar

sured you, that the disgrace which has thur did not long remain in that gloomy at- fallen on your family should not make me, titude, for a ray of thought darted into the

in any way, oppose her union with you. darkness of his mind; he still, however, If you please, Mr. Arthur, consider us, stood meditating on the idea which had set us against a person who is sentenced presented itself to him: at last, he de- for a capital crime. Come, come, Arthur, cided; and walked quickly away. No my fine fellow, you are not apt to act thus time must be lost,' he said to himself as wildly, you see the reason of what I he hurried through the streets; but every have said. Ab, I'm glad to see you are one who has hurried through the streets coming over to my opinion!' Arthur's of the city, finds that the throng seem all face was bent towards the ground. Mr. to be impeding his course: he soov reached Merton thought he looked irresolute. the house of the friend he was desirous • Well, Arthur, you agree with me, eh!' of seeing. You cannot see Mr. Merton "No, sir, I am still of the same opinion.'yet, sir,' said the clerk to whoin Arthur " Then, sir give up my daughter, for I will spoke, but if you wait a few minutes, he never consent to her marrying a hair. will be disengaged.' The few minutes brained fellow like you.'- I cannot give proved more than an hour, aud Arthur up Miss Merton, sir, till she has refused did not regret it, for he had more time to me.'--" Well, sir, follow me into the think over the resolution he had taken; house, and you shall hear Miss Mertoy and the wildness and the heat of his ap- refuse you ; she shall retuse you, if you pearance passed off. His looks were as

persist in this plan.'-Arthur followed calın as the tone in which he spoke, when Mr. Merton." he told Mr. Merton his intention of going to New South Wales. • Are you mad, Ellen Merton however, approves of he replied, 'pray tell me why? what can bis resolutions, and cruel as the sepainduce you to give up your prospects ? ration is, applauds his conduct. .who has put this into your head, for I am sure you had not thought of this rash “ He had taken leave of her, and set off scheme when you left me yesterday? You to see his mother and sisters also, before are not apt to act hastily, or like a mere his departure. He travelled all night, and romantic boy.'- My dear sir,' said Ar- had to walk three iniles to his native vil. thur, 'I am quite resolved; and no one lage. Every step awakened some painful has put this into my head: I have not remembrance ; for he was passing through consulted any one, but I have been to take scenes where he had lived from his child. leave of my poor brother; I had left him hood in joy and peace with his brother as one for whom I could only pray in fa- then happy in the careless innocence of ture, and I never felt so miserable in my youth: every thing looked as it was wont life: I knew not to what dangers he in those happy days, but every feeling of migbt be exposed, where every thing like his heart was mournful. Being unwilling self-respect would be destroyed; where to pass through the village, Arthur turned he might be led away by the wretches he down a dark sindy lane, half shadowed would be with ; and where he might by large weeping beech trees. At the end be indeed lost to us and to Heaven for of it, sloped away a deep valley, from ever.'-. But what will all the world say? one side of which a winding path led, by who ever heard of such a step? it may be the side of a clear and broad stream, to a all very fine in theory, but it will never steep hill: on one side of this hill stood do; trust me, young man, it will never the cottage in which Mrs. Western redo. I know a little more of life than you sided. Artiur stopped, for all these obdo, and I'm sick of romance. I am veryjects interested bim. The river was flowsorry for your brother, but he has dis. ing on just as usual below, where he had so graced you, and he is not worth thinking often bathed with his brother: he looked of; he has got into the scrape, and he must up, and he found that he was standing beget out as he can. I can't see why all your neath a tree, on whose branches they prospects in lite are to be destroyed by had often climbed together; a bower which his villainy. He is good for nothing.' – they had formed there, still retained 'sir,' said Arthur very gravely, 'I did something of it's shape, though many of not call on you to hear my poor brother the boughs had started back: there was abused : I must request, nay, sir, I must something in this that resembled the forinsist, on your not spcahing thus of hiin mer and present habits and intimacy of


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the brothers with each other; they had where Eli, on hearing that the Almighty both once grown and twined together, and, would punish bis wicked sons, exclaims : though many a branch had started back and “It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth separated, they were still marked by a si- him good.' How did this mother receive milarity of character, and joined in an the intelligence, that Arthur lad deteranion which could not easily be altered. mined to accompany his brother in his As Arthue looked up into the tree, he felt banishment? She looked at her son with all this: he could not bear the feeling just an expression of perfect joy. I had thes; and he hastened to the bouse. The hoped, I had dared to hope,' she exclaimed shutters were partly closed in his mother's fervently, “ that in you I should not be bed-room windows, and he saw the dull disappointed. I am repaid for all my red light of the rushlight, which had burnt sufferings. I have no fears,' she contiduring the night in the sick chamber, nued, after a long pause. "He who hath vainly struggling with the bright clear day- blessed me in you, will guide you in safety light. The room all at once became dark, through every danger: I have no fears and one of the shutters was moved. Ars that your future prospects, even in this thur retreated quickly behind a shrub, life, will be injured by the conduct you are and observed the shutter quite unclosed, about to pursue; Our Father, to whom we and then the window opened by his sis- are committing you, will, in his good time, ter's hand; her countenance looked very give you an abundance of more than your sad as she stood for some time at the heart can desire. His strength, and his window; but he was sure that his mother peace, and his blessing, will go with you. spoke to her, for in a moment a smile You have given me new spirits. I am canje over her face, and opening her lips, consoled for all the misery of my poor as if to answer, sve left the window. guilty Lawrence. God will make his

brother the means of his salvation. Let “ Mrs. Western had been long in delicate me bless you,' she said, as she flung her bealth; the conduct of her son, Lawrence, 'arm around him. “Let me bless you a made her suffer still more ; she became again,' she added, “ for your brother I dangerously ill, and was slowly recover- bestow the latter blessing.' ing, when Artiur arrived ; but, though ber bodily strength had so nearly given

Arthur emharks privately as way, her soul had never sank within her: Settler on board the convict vessel dering the whole of her long illness she in which his brother is to be transhad not once marmured; she had been ported, and secretly observes, during pefectly resigned ; she prayed in spirit the voyage, that the latter is pale and and in truth;' and she ever prayed for penitent. the full assurance of hope.' 'When she was told, for no one ever concealed the Anxiously did Arthur now look fortruth from her, lest she should not be able ward to the time when he should make in bear it, of her son's guilt, she had re- hiniselfknown to his brother; but on all actired instantly to her room; and when her counts he judged it better to wait till their daughters left her that night she said, I arrival at Port Jackson. The voyage was sball go to Loodon to-morrow;' they nearly concluded, when Arthur was one found her too ill to rise the next morn- night awakened by a man who entered to ing; since then she had again resolved to put up the dead lights in his cabin; and who go to her son, but her physician bad posi- told him that the ship was in great danger. tively forbidden her, and she quietly In a few minutes, Arthur was one of the obrved him : though apparently sinking foremost in endeavouring to save her; he beneath the blow, she never betrayed that went about every where, encouraging the torpid timidity of character, which makes sailors and assisting them: he had been every one dread to cominunicate to the for some time employed in helping, with safierer a surprize of sorrow, lest the many of the prisoners, to clear down part burden should prove too great. She of the rigging; and had sought among seemed ever prepared for, ever expect those prisoners, vainly, for his brother; ing, the worst; but with no feverish ex- he had spoken to them all, but his bropectation. What passed to her as a sor- ther's voice had not answered him. The row, instantly became with her, a hope; storm increased, and he was rushing tothe thorus which were with others with waris the quarter of the ship where the out even a leaf to cool and shade the head prisoners had been confined, that he roond which they twined, on her brow might embrace his brother, perhaps, for budded into roses. When they told her the last time, in this world, when he that her son's life was spared, she lookerl bebeld a person fall down exhausted bedown at the Bible she had just been read- side the pump at which he had been ing, and wept; her daughters saw that working: Arthur stopped, he spoke to she looked on a page which had often him, but the man had tainted; he thonght been open before her,--it was the part his brother might be laying in his arms, for

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