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coast of India, between Malabar and Goa, a wild and rugged district, had fallen to the share of the Company, on the division of Tippoo's dominions. The unenviable distinction of being esteemed the only man in the service competent to the task of its settlement fell to the lot of Munro. It was with reluctance that he undertook the charge, a reluctance, which, with characteristic openness, he did not hesitate to express, but which he never allowed to interfere with the discharge of his duty. During fourteen months that he remained upon this station, he devoted from twelve to sixteen hours of every day to public business; and he left a province which he found wild and disorderly, filled with banditti, and over-run with refractory chiefs, in a state of high cultivation, with an improving revenue, and a firmly established administration of justice.

Of his domestic habits at this period, Mr Gleig gives a pleasing and graphic account:

"As often as the calls of duty permitted him to remain stationary at his head-quarters, Major Munro, who was economical of his time, rose every morning at day-break, no matter how late the business of the preceding night might have kept him up, from a bed which consisted simply of a carpet and pillow spread upon a rattan couch. On quitting his chamber, he walked about bare-headed in the open air, conversing with the natives, who, on various pretexts and at all seasons, beset him, till seven o'clock, at which time breakfast was served up for himself and his assistants. Of this he partook heartily, more especially of the tea, which he considered a wholesome beverage; whilst of sugar he was so singularly fond, as frequently to request an additional allowance, for the pleasure of eating the lump that was left undissolved at the bottom of the cup.

"Breakfast ended-and the meal never lasted longer than half an hour-the assistant received his instructions, and withdrew to the office of his moonshee and English writers; upon which, Major Munro first dispatched his private and official letters, and then adjourned to his hall of audience. There he remained during the rest of the forenoon, surrounded by his public servants and the inhabitants, carrying on the current duties of the province, investigating claims upon disputed property, or obtaining such information as could afterwards be acted upon only by the aid of notes and calculations.

"In this manner he employed himself till about half-past four in the afternoon, when he broke up his court, and retired to his apartment to dress. Whilst the latter operation was going on, his assistant usually read to him either public and private letters, should such be received; or, in default of these, a portion of Hudibras, or some other amusing work. At five o'clock he sat down to dinner, from which hour till eight, he laid aside the cares of office, that he might delight those who were so fortunate as to enjoy his society, with his wit, humour, and remarkable powers of conversation; but punctually as the hour of eight returned, his habits of business were resumed. His nightcutchery then opened, which, like that of the day, was always crowded with suitors; and though he professed then to attend only to matters of minor moment, midnight rarely found him relieved from his arduous duties.

"Whilst he thus regulated his conduct by the standard of usefulness only, he gradually acquired, both in his costume and manners, a considerable degree of eccentricity. Remote from all intercourse with polished society, he attended very little to the niceties of dress; so that whilst in his person he was always remarkable for cleanliness, his attire gave few indications of time wasted at the toilette. His garments, likewise, set all changes of art and fashion at defiance: they continued to hold the form which they had originally assumed in the days of Sir Eyre Coote; whilst his queue was not unfrequently tied up with a piece of red tape, in the absence of a wrapper of more appropriate colour and texture. In like manner, his conversation would, at times, assume a character indicative of any thing rather than an excess of refinement. The idea of love he treated with unsparing ridicule, declaring that idle men only fell into so gross an extravagance; and when informed by Mr Read of the marriage of their mutual friend Mr Ravenshaw, his only observation was- I would not advise you to increase the difficulties of your situation, by taking a young wife for

an assistant.'

"Major Munro was at all times particularly humane towards the inferior animals. He possessed an old white

horse, which he had purchased in the camp before Cuddalore, and which he had ridden ever since, as long as it was capable of carrying him; and now that its strength failed, he caused it to be tended and fed with the utmost care and regularity. Nay, his attachment to the animal was such, that, finding it unable to bear the fatigue of removal, he literally pensioned it off when he himself quitted the district; and his grief was unfeigned when he heard, that his servants having withdrawn it by mistake, it died upon the road. So it was with a flock of goats which he kept in Canara, to supply his family with milk, and in watching whose gambols he took great delight. On no account whatever would he permit the peons to drive them away during the storm, from beneath the verandas, asserting that the goats had as much right to shelter as any person about his cutchery, and that none should presume to deprive them of it.

"One more specimen of the habits of this extraordinary man may be given, ere I close the present chapter. Besides his favourite amusements, swimming, billiards, quoits and fives, he possessed a curious predilection for throwing stones, of which Mr Read has furnished us with the following whimsical illustration:- Having got completely wet on ing ride, I wrote him a note, requesting that he would wait one occasion,' says he, in his MS. journal, during a mornbreakfast. He returned for answer-I will wait ten minutes, which, in my opinion, is enough for any man to put on his clothes.' When I joined him, I perceived a stone in his hand, and enquired what he meant to do with it. 'I am just waiting," answered he, till all the Brahmins go away, that I may have one good throw at that dog upon the wall;' and added, whenever I wanted to play myself, in this or any other manner in the Barramabl, I used to go either into Macleod's or Graham's division.'"

arms.

Soon after the fall of Tippoo, the British Government in India obtained from their ally, the Nizam, a cession of the territory he had acquired by the treaty of Mysore, south of the Kistnah Toombudra rivers. The whole inhabitants of this district had become, during a long succession of intestine convulsions, habituated to the use of The collection of the revenue had been intrusted, under the inefficient government of the Nizam, to a host of delegates, who at once defrauded the sovereign, and oppressed and plundered the inhabitants. It has been computed that the ceded districts contained, in 1800, about thirty thousand armed peons, the whole of whom subsisted by rapine. The ardent mind of Munro aspired to the honour of restoring order to this distracted country, and solicited as a favour, a task from which most men would have shrunk in despair. His request was granted. He assumed the government of the ceded districts in 1800, and retained it till 1807, when he departed for England. For the four first years of his residence among these semibarbarians, he never dwelt in a house. His home was in his tent; and with a generous confidence, which the result justified, he travelled through the country without a guard. He had studied attentively the character of the natives, and he knew that amongst the rudest of them there was a deep and abiding reverence for the constituted authorities. He knew, too, that by mixing among them without parade, he would obtain more information, and he introduced, by the most unremitting exertions, somebetter conciliate their affections. In the course of a year, thing like security into the country. But it was not against the turbulent passions of men alone that he had to contend. In the fearful droughts of 1803 and 1804, he alleviated the distress of the district under his charge, and saved it from the horrors of famine; whilst he continued to secure for the Company a revenue which none but himself could have collected. And amid all these labours, he afforded the most prompt and efficient support to Sir Arthur Wellesley, who was then beginning to develope the talents, which he has since so gloriously manifested in more tremendous conflicts.

When Munro revisited England, his stay extended to a period of six years, at the close of which he returned to India, having been placed at the head of a Commission appointed to enquire into, and ameliorate, the defects of our judicial system in the East. Into his conduct in this situation, we regret that our limits forbid us to enter.

We can only remark, that it was fully equal to what his previous life led every one to expect. His legislatorial labours were interrupted in 1817, by the breaking out of the Mahratta war, in the course of which he proved himself as great a general as a statesman. Placed at the head of a very inadequate force, he boldly transferred the scene of hostilities to the enemy's territories, and to supply his deficiency in troops, he conceived the daring idea of arming the enemy's own subjects, and availing himself of their assistance. The consequence was, that in less than three months from the date of his appointment to the command, he was in possession of all the Mahratta territory south of the Malpurha, with the exception of two small forts; and by the 11th of May, he terminated his campaign by a blow which tended not a little to bring about the negotiation by which the Peishwah shortly after surrendered to Sir John Malcolm.

Be

At the close of the war, he prepared to return to England with his family; he had married, shortly before his departure for India, in 1814. He arrived in the Downs towards the end of June, with the firm resolution of spending the remainder of his life in this country. fore the close of the year, however, he was again on his way to India, with the rank of Governor of Madras. His conduct in this high and arduous situation was that of a real patriot, of a just and upright man. He was alike attentive to the interests of the natives, and to the dignity and respectability of his employers. He was equally ready to exert all his energies in the service, whether he himself were to reap the honour of what he performed, or whether, as in the case of the Burmese war, the laurels due to him were, in all human likelihood, destined to wreathe other brows.

In 1826, Lady Munro was obliged, by the illness of their infant child, to embark for England; and the spe

cimens given by Mr Gleig of Sir Thomas's letters to her, after their separation, show his character in a most engaging light. As, for example:

"I took, as usual, a long walk on Sunday morning; there had been so much rain, that the garden looked more fresh and beautiful than I ever saw it; but I found nobody there excepting a boy guarding the mangoes and figs from the squirrels-not even the old French gardener. It was a great change from the time I was always sure of finding Kanem (his eldest son) and you there. It is melancholy to think that you are never again to be in a place in which you took so much pleasure. This idea comes across me still more strongly, when I enter the house and pass from my own room to the drawing-room, along the passage, now so silent and deserted, and formerly so noisy with your son and you, and his followers. It always makes me sad when I visit the place; but I shall be wae when I leave it, like you, for the last time."

Previous to his leaving India, Sir Thomas resolved to pay a farewell visit to his old friends in the ceded districts. During this excursion, he was attacked by the cholera morbus; and at Pulleecondah, the 6th of July, 1927, this country lost one of her best and most faithful

servants.

On looking over this very inadequate attempt to convey to our readers some notion of the character of Sir Thomas Munro, we feel strongly tempted to toss it into the fire; and nothing withholds us, but the consciousness, that to give any thing like a fair account of him, within our narrow limits, is utterly hopeless. He arrived in India at a period when the Presidency to which he was attached seemed threatened with instant annihilation; he left it undisputed mistress of the Peninsula from sea to sea, and from Cape Comorin to the Kistnah. sonal appearance is thus described:

His

per

"In stature he was tall; of a spare but bony make; very upright and soldier-like in his carriage, and possessed of great muscular strength. There was an expression of decision in the lines of his face, which a stranger might readily mistake for sternness; but his eye was bright and penetrating; and when he began to relax, good-humour and benevolence were remarkably displayed in his countenance.

When he spoke, the voice appeared to issue rather from the side of his mouth, and the looker-on might easily detect when a playful or ludicrous idea struck him, by a peculiar curl in his upper, and a projection in his lower lip. Upon the whole, it may with truth be asserted, that his countenance was decidedly pleasing, whilst there was an inde scribable something about his air, manner, and expression, which no one could behold without respect.”

With this extract, we close a book which will afford rich lessons to the warrior and the statesman, and which we would recommend as the manual of every talented and high-spirited youth, on his entrance upon the duties of active life.

Poetry of the Magyars, preceded by a Sketch of the Language and Literature of Hungary and Transylvania. By John Bowring, LL. D. &c. &c. London. Robert Heward. 1830. 8vo. Pp. 312.

his selections are taken.

As a translator of modern verse from almost every modern language, Dr Bowring stands alone and unrivalled. Already has he given to the public of this country a Russian, a Spanish, a Batavian, a Servian, and a Polish anthology, accompanied in every case with a history of the poetical literature of the nation from which And now we are presented with is most valuable in Hungarian poetry. a handsome and interesting volume, embodying all that This gift will be considered still more acceptable when we reflect that the Magyar language stands afar off and alone, and that it is at once difficult of acquisition, and moulded in a form essentially its own. "There are some, I know," says Dr Bowring, "who look upon the occupations of a translator as ignoble, and unworthy of literary ambition. I am well content to stand at respectful distance from those great intellects whose works are borne on the wings of an all-pervading fame to every country where the ear of civilisation is listening. Yet I cannot believe that my humble labours are useless; nor have I ever wanted, and I hope I never shall want while health is vouchsafed to me, both encouragement and enthusiasm to pursue them. My mission, at all events, is one of benevolence. never left the ark of my country but with the wish to return to it, bearing fresh olive branches of peace and fresh garlands of poetry."

I have

We confess that, for our own part, we feel inclined to

except Dr Bowring from the slight which we might, perDr haps, be disposed to put upon the mere translator. Bowring's enthusiasm elevates him into a poet. There is poetry in his travelling over so many lands, and overcoming the difficulties of so many languages, for the sole purpose of culling the sweet thoughts and high inspirations of each. We are glad to say that Dr Bowring's exertions have been acknowledged in most of the leading journals of Europe; and that six hundred copies of the volume before us were subscribed for previous to its appearance. After an interesting introduction on the language and literature of Hungary and Transylvania, our author proceeds to arrange the different poets chronologically, giving specimens from the earliest period down to the present day. Of course, some of these are duller than others, and there are a few which do not appear sufficiently important to entitle them to have been translated at all; but on the whole, we find a number of beautiful and interesting morceaux, which are in general rendered with so much freedom and spirit, that we can hardly regret our want of knowledge of the original. There is, besides, a freshness and newness about the greater part of the contents, which, in these days of insipidity, and commonplace, and threadbare rhyming, is worth a great deal. Take, as an example, the following admirable little ode from an Hungarian poet, who died in 1779:

THE GAY-PLUMED BIRD.

"Thou gay-plumed bird, whose never-bridled flight O'er field, o'er forest, is one long delight;

Were I a gay-plumed bird, how blest 'twould be
Thy songs to sing, to fly, to rest with thee,
Thou gay-plumed bird!,

"Thou gay-plumed bird, thou canst no longer sing!
Thou art imprison'd by the fowler's spring;
Were I a gay-plumed bird, I would not go
Sporting with such delusive treacheries. No!
Thou gay-plumed bird!

"Thou gay-plumed bird, though liberty is gone,
Yet kindness waits thy every want upon;
Were I a gay-plumed bird, I still should long
For the free heaven and the wild woodland song,
Thou gay-plumed bird!

"Thou gay-plumed bird, thy golden chain to me,
Were but a decorated misery!

Were I a gay-plumed bird, I would not fill
Thy gaudy prison, were it gaudier still,
Thou gay-plumed bird!

"Thou gay-plumed bird, they bring thee sugar'd meat,
Use flattering words, caressing while they cheat;
Were I a gay-plumed bird, that sweeten'd waste
Were worse than very poison to my taste,

Thou gay-plumed bird!

"Thou luckless bird! alas! and thou hast lost
That plumage, once thy brightness and thy boast!
Were I a gay-plumed bird, I would not dwell
A prisoner in thy solitary cell,

Thou gay-plumed bird!"

There is something, perhaps, still more original in the following, from another pen :

WATER, WIND, REPUTATION.

"I was a boy, and heard this pretty story:
That Wind and Water play'd with Reputation
At hide-and-seek together.

"The Water rush'd adown the mountain passes,
But was discover'd, after long pursuing,
In the deep valleys.

"The Wind flew upwards;

But it was followed to the mountain summits,
And soon entrapp'd there.

"Then Reputation was to be imprison'd,
And Reputation whisper'd

In sonorous voice to her companions:

Know, if you lose me-know, if once I hide me,
I'm lost for ever.'

"And so it was-she hid her; all enquiry
Was wasted in the seeking;

Nothing can renovate that perish'd treasure, If thou hast lost it-thou hast lost all with it." We have been also much pleased with the annexed sonnet, which is probably not more than half a century old:

SONNET.

"My little bark of life is gently speeding

Adown the stream, 'midst rocks, and sands, and eddies, And gathering storms, and darkening clouds-unheeding, Its quiet course through waves and wind it steadies. My love is with me-and my babes, whose kisses Sweep sorrow's trace from off my brow as fast As gathering care-and hung upon the mast Our harp and myrtle flowers that shed their blisses On the sweet air. Is darkness on my path? Then beams bright radiance from a star that hath Its temple in the heaven. As firm as youth I urge my onward way-there is no fear For honest spirits. Even the fates revere And recompense-love, minstrelsy, and truth."

We can find room for nothing more but the following lines, which we recommend to the serious attention of all worshippers of the Muse, as they contain much sense in little bulk:

RULES AND NATURE.

"Many a rule have I read of this way of writing and t'other, Chilling and harassing dogmas that dry up the sources of thought,

Give me the burst of the heart, the spirit's emphatic outpourings;

They can awaken my soul, and bid the tear gush from mine

eye.

Read and enquire-'tis wise to learn the commandments-then open

The sluice of thy soul, and its streams shall flow forth in their glory and power."

It is perhaps worth mentioning, that we observe Dr Bowring translates, as if from the original of Francis Kazinczi, a small epigram, entitled "Cupid on a Lion," which Kazinczi must have himself translated from the Greek. Dr Bowring will find the true original in the Anthologia Græca, vol. i. p. 110. Edit. De Bosch.-To the specimens of the different poets, are added upwards of sixty Hungarian popular songs, the leading character of which is simplicity, patriotism, and warm-heartedness. Altogether, we have no hesitation in strongly recommending this work to the attention of our readers, nor in expressing our conviction that it will add a new leaf to the laurel-wreath already twining itself round Dr Bowring's brows.

Records of Captain Clapperton's Last Expedition to Africa. By Richard Lander, his faithful Attendant, and the only surviving Member of the Expedition. With the subsequent Adventures of the Author. In two volumes 8vo. London. Henry Colburn and Richard Bentley. 1830. Pp. 310 and 293.

We are informed, in the Introduction to this book, that its author is under obligations to a younger brother, for modelling and re-touching his narrative. We should have much preferred his own plain story. There is an attempt at fine writing in the work, and a swagger of vulgar independence, smelling strongly of a Cockney linendraper, who, devoid of a liberal education, has picked up his notions of clever writing from a careful perusal of certain portions of the Sunday Newspaper press. Nevertheless, with all its faults, this is an interesting book, and would be more so, if we could place implicit reliance on all its details of the author's own adventures. One thing it proves, the utter want of precaution on the part of every member of the expedition, although in a new and proverbially unhealthy climate. We sincerely trust that future travellers, by taking warning from their fate, may have better fortune. The suggestions it contains respecting the identity of the Falatahs and the Red Caffres, and the proposed journey overland from the Cape to the Houssa country, are worthy of serious attention. There are also scattered throughout the work many interesting traits, which serve to fill up the picture of the domestic habits of the natives of Interior Africa. Of all the characters whom Lander encountered, our greatest favourite is his fat friend Ebo:

son.

"The King (of Katunga) visited us every day, and never came without an acceptable present of provisions; while his caboccers behaved with a still nobler generosity, insomuch, that if it had not been for the mal-practices of a sly, lubberly, fat, monstrous eunuch, named Ebo, to whose care was intrusted our provisions, and whose ravenous appetite was proverbial in the city, we should have been literally crammed with every delicacy, both of the country and seaThat old gourmand had a paunch of a most awful size, which he contrived to keep in excellent condition, by partaking largely of the good things intended for our use, which he purloined in a daring and impudent manner, and devoured when alone and at leisure. Not content with secreting the choicest articles, he made so serious impression even on the bare necessaries of life, that we were not unfrequently kept on bare allowance. On one occasion, we detected him in the very act of concealing some ducks, eggs, and honey, which we knew beforehand had been sent him for our consumption; and we taxed him with the robbery to his face. Ebo, however, disclaimed the imputation with earnestness, and maintained his innocence with considerable volubility. On our entrance, he held a bottle of rum in one hand, to which he had been evidently paying his de

votions, whilst the other was occupied in shuffling something under a mat. It was, no doubt, his intention to take another draught of the inspiring liquid, whilst thus employed, but, mistaking the hand in which it was held, he snatched the other from under the mat, and had actually the head of our duck in his mouth, instead of the bottle, before the error was discovered. He was not the least disconcerted; and although we discovered the honey and eggs also concealed in another part of his house, he roundly asserted he had purchased them at the market the day before. Complaints were made to the King of his conduct, but without producing any effect upon the gormandizing Ebo, who continued to feed on our provisions, while his paunch maintained its usual enviable state of rotundity and bulk, at the expense of our empty stomachs."

the same book, which is highly creditable to the Edin-
burgh Review. The sixth article, on the Sugar Duties, is
no doubt prodigiously learned, but it bristles with figures
The next article-
at such a rate, that we pass it over.
on the Ottoman Empire-is a most judicious performance,
but would have been essentially improved by being con-
densed into a third of its present longitude. We have
the same remark to make on the article anent the Spirit
Duties, which we made on its twin-brother anent the
In the article on Sir Rufane Donkin's
Sugar Duties.

He

Theory regarding the Course of the Nile, the reviewer's
politeness and his conscience seem sorely at odds.
compliments the learned knight at every turn for his ta-
lents and research, and ends by demonstrating, most re-
luctantly, that he has gone illogically and unreflectingly
to work. The truth is, that the Quarterly dispersed the
knight's dreams to the four winds of heaven some six
months ago.
The tenth article contains an excellent po-

On his return, Lander found his old friend advanced to a station of trust, and anxious to impress him with the truth of the old adage, “honour changes manners :' "Ebo, the noted eunuch, who has so often been spoken of, and whose mal-practices produced great uneasiness to us on our proceeding towards Kano, had been taken into fa-pular view of the Homöopathic system of medicine, now so vour by his sovereign, during my absence from Katunga, much in vogue in Germany. Finally, the number closes He came to and promoted to the highest offices of state. with a clear-headed review of Southey's Sir Thomas More. me, paunch and all, on the Sunday after my arrival at Katunga, and, laughing heartily at his former frolics, told me he had no need to make such shifts now, in order to procure any delicacy he might want, for he had only to hint his wishes, when a bowl of dog's or ass's flesh, a dish of fried caterpillars, or a saucepan of ants and locusts, was smoking before him in a moment! I congratulated him on his good fortune, and the amplitude of his body, which he took very good-humouredly; and, during my stay, Ebo, the fat gourmand, was my best friend."

Ebo had his point of honour too, as well as his neigh

bours:

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"He showed me, one day, a small apartment in his house, filled with cowries, (being worth about fifty dollars English money,) and asked, with an exulting air, if the King Half so rich of my country was half so rich as himself. as yourself!' I rather indiscreetly replied; why, my sovereign could purchase you, your monarch, and the whole of Yariba, and not miss the money the purchase of it would require. Indeed,' rejoined Ebo, angrily, thou liest;' and, without further ceremony, was about to fling me into the yard; when, hastily retracting my expression, I assured the irascible prime minister that I spoke only in jest, to try his temper; which apology somewhat appeased the gigantic black, who, laughingly accusing himself of being rather too quick when his own honour and that of his country were concerned, invited me to partake with him of a dozen of stewed rats, and a calabash of pitto."

Nearly equal to Ebo are the old, corpulent, amorous, thieving scoundrel Pasko, Captain Clapperton's servant, and the fat widow Zuma, in love with the abstract idea of a white man. The story of this gentle lady would, however, have been much improved, by being less ambitiously told. On the whole, we can recommend these volumes to our readers, as containing a considerable fund

of amusement.

The Edinburgh Review. No. C. January. 1830. London: Longman and Co. Edinburgh: Adam Black.. THIS is a good average number, and contains much that is instructive and amusing. The first article settles, in a judicious and satisfactory manner, the claims of those writers who have of late been pointing out the designs of Providence in the current of history, with a flippancy and self-conceit equally alien to reason and piety. The second is an amusing appreciation of the merits of that school of political economists, of whom Mr Sadler is the type and Coryphæus. We do not think that the third article throws much light on the geography or social projects of South America; but as the reviewer has stuck close to the work he was reviewing, this is probably not his fault. Article fourth, on Etruscan Antiquities, is sensible, and may be read with advantage by such as wish to obtain a general notion of the results of the latest investigations in that interesting field. The review of the Life and Times of Defoe is nearly as good as our own notice of

Memoirs of Madame Du Barri. Translated from the
French. In three volumes. Vol. First. Being the
twenty-ninth volume of " Autobiography." London.
Whittaker & Co. 1830.

And

"It was a happy idea which led to the incorporation of all the most interesting Lives, by the subjects themselves, in one uniform series of volumes," said a critic, when the "Autobiography" was first commenced. so it was; but only so long as the conductors kept to such Lives as those of Hume, Cibber, Marmontel, Drury, Kotzebue, Gibbon, Gifford, and others no less respectable and important, whether political or literary. But when they departed from this track, to give the world the Memoirs of French and English blackguards, male and female, we say the idea is not happy, and not calculated to do any good. The Memoirs of Du Barri-the mistress of Louis XV. and who was beheaded during the French Revolution—are translated by the same person who has done into English the Memoirs of that arch rascal Vidocq; and we conceive that the gentleman, whoever he is, must be a perfect connoisseur in licentiousness, ribaldry, and intrigue, else he would never have dared to palm such abominations on the people of this country.

The work we are now noticing is, like "Vidocq," cal-
In better society
culated expressly for the meridian of the Parisian Palais
Royale and the London Seven Dials.

it should never be seen; and we shall be much mistaken
if the publishing such "Memoirs" does not materially
hurt the "Autobiography" in general. Autobiography and
Biography are two of the most fascinating kinds of read-
ing; but when they are prostituted to detailing vice in all
its forms, and blackguardism in all its disgusting shapes,
they should be scouted with the contempt they deserve,
or left to sink in the oblivion of their own abominations.
Some persons may pretend that it is necessary to publish
these "Memoirs" on purpose to get at certain political
facts and intrigues which would otherwise be imperfectly
known; but if, in the search for these facts, we are
obliged to wade through such a tissue of depravity as that
before us, we would far rather go without them.
good which the knowledge of these facts may do, will be
far more than counterbalanced by the evil which their
concomitants are certain to diffuse.

The

We must add, that we are sorry and surprised to see the respectable name of Messrs Whittaker figuring as the We thought that they had publishers of these volumes. been the property of the less scrupulous house of Messrs

Hunt and Clarke.-We wonder much that it has never

occurred to the editors of this work to print the highly interesting and instructive Memoirs of Cumberland,

Theatre versus Conventicle; or, the Drama Attacked and Defended: Containing Mr Calvert's Letters, in Defence of the Stage, to the Rev. T. Best of Sheffield, with the subsequent Controversy in the Leeds Independent of 1824. Hull: Wilson. London: Baldwin, Cradock, and Joy. 1826. Pp. 112.

THE pamphlet, whose title we have just copied, is, as will be perceived, not a new publication; but it has never, we believe, been much known in this quarter, though certainly deserving the attention of all who interest themselves, favourably or not, in the question of which it treats. The author is Mr F. B. Calvert, formerly well known as a leading performer in the theatres of the North of England, and latterly also as a lecturer on elocution and literature in Cambridge and elsewhere. We have been induced to notice the work, from the circumstance of a few copies reaching Edinburgh from the North, where the author now is.

The first part of the pamphlet, A Defence of the Acted Drama, was originally published separately, in answer to the attacks of a clergyman in Sheffield; and is the Essay of which, as some of our readers may recollect, a part was read by Mr Fawcett at one of the London Theatrical Fund Dinners, at which the Duke of Sussex presided. Of the estimation in which the actors held their champion, a proof was given by a subscription for a piece of plate, which, on the proposal of Mr Dowton, was set on foot among the performers of Drury Lane; and we believe other similar presents, from individuals of the profession more immediately connected with Mr Calvert,

have testified their sense of the services which their de

fender has rendered them. Mr Calvert's Defence will, we conceive, be read with pleasure by all who think as he does on the subject; and of his arguments, there are not a few which it would puzzle the enemies of the drama fairly to answer. In the general view which he takes of theatrical representation, we cordially agree with him, though the anxiety which every man feels to exalt his own pursuits, aided by the excitation of argumentative writing, have led him occasionally into something like exaggeration. Well acquainted, as he appears to be, with ancient literature, and evidently familiar with the finest branches of our own, he wishes to consider the scenic art as strictly belonging to the same class with poetry, painting, and sculpture, and confidently claims a place for it side by side with those glorious embodyings of human thought and energy, against which the more moderate, at least, of the assailants of the theatre, would blush to utter an insinuation. He views dramatic personation as merely a beautiful extension of those silent expressions of the mind, conveyed by poetry and the arts of design, and as inseparably connected with the existence of literature and mental refinement. The latter part of the brochure contains a Newspaper controversy, subsequently engaged in by Mr Calvert at Leeds; and the letters on both sides are given as first published.

On the whole, we think the pamphlet fully justifies the claim advanced for it in the Preface" of exhibiting the widest and most strongly-contrasted view of the question which has hitherto appeared." And with regard to the literary merits of the production, we may safely assert, that if one-twentieth of the votaries of the sock and buskin possessed half the literary acquirements and ability of this gentleman, actors and acting would be regarded with much more respect than they at present receive, and would approach much more nearly to the footing on which our author aims at establishing them.

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the shape of a complete volume, and a goodly thick volume it is; and 2d, Because its chief contributors were two men of genius-William Kennedy and William Motherwell-many of whose lucubrations were worthy of a higher sphere than a Paisley periodical,—with all reverence be it spoken. It appears now to be sufficiently established, that no provincial Magazine in Scotland can The attempt has been made at Glasgow, at succeed. Dumfries, at Perth, and at Paisley; and, if we are not But after exmistaken, at Aberdeen and Dundee also. isting for a few months, more or less, they all "died, and made no sign." Sooth to say, there is, in general, a good deal of trash in such works. The Editors are often clever enough, but then they must study local feelings and prejudices, and must be content with what sort of contributors Providence chooses to send them. Hence, their own merits are commonly choked up by a mass of dulness, which never could have possessed any interest for mortal man residing at the distance of seven miles from the habitat of the publishing office. We have no intention of speaking very voluminously in praise of the Paisley Magazine, even although Kennedy and Motherwell wrote for it. It is not what they would have made it had it issued, like the Literary Journal, from the Ballantyne press, and blushed into existence at No. 19, Waterloo Place. It was the voices of two persons in the wilderness; and it is not therefore matter of surprise, that the sand occasionally blew into their mouths, and choked up the melody of their utterance. Nevertheless, this Magazine contains many things which the discerning eye will at once set down as the emanations of a higher order of mind. On the whole, the prose is not so good as the poetry, although the story of "The Doomed Nine, or the Langbein Ritters," is one of the most beautiful imaginative sketches we have read for a long while, and is evidently from the pen of Mr Motherwell. In the poetical department, we find many pieces which have subsequently appeared in the Annuals, and have been much admired in these flower-gardens. There are, inter alia, Motherwell's exceedingly spirited and original translations and imitations from the Icelandic,also, "The Water, the Water!" "Wearie's Well," and other pieces; and there are Kennedy's " Elegy on the Departed Year, by a Bard who owes it nothing," "Three Fanciful Supposes,” and "Thirty Years." There are, besides, two poems, which we have not happened to see anywhere else, and both of which we look upon as gems. The first, we think, is by Kennedy, and the second by Motherwell. much pleasure in transferring them to our pages. first is entitled

THE BOLD Lover.

"For years have I loved thee,
But hope there was none,
That e'er thy proud father
Would call me his son.
If my hand sent no token,
My lip gave no sign,
To picture my passion-

The fault was not mine.
"I have watch'd thee unwearied,
In greenwood and hall,
Unseen by thy kindred,
Thy wooers, and all.
Though men cried ‘a marvel!
I worshipp'd thee where
The knees of the holy

Were bending in prayer.

"I have look'd to thy window
On many a night,
And sigh'd for the wings of
The happy moonlight.
It stole to thy chamber

And slept on thy brow,
Entranced by thy beauty,
As I, sweet, am now!

We have

The

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