Of distant climes, the false report The chamois, skipping o'er the heights, That grace yon dear beloved retreat, Now safe return'd, with wandering tired, O'er many a distant foreign land, For pastoral songs we have not the most profound admiration, and when Colin sings to Phabe have but little desire to join the concert. The following, written by a boy, may possibly escape the rigid critic's animadversion. "Let pass, quoth Marmion, by my fay." Come, Anna, come, the morning dawns, Come, let us seek the dewy lawns, And watch the early lark arise; While Nature clad in vesture gay, Our flocks that nip the scanty blade, And watch the silver clouds above, Come, Anna, come and bring thy lute, And then at eve, when Silence reigns, And thou to thy soft lute shalt play Though the thought in the subsequent stanzas is exceedingly trite, yet the expression is remarkably beautiful. SONNET TO APRIL. Emblem of life! see changeful April sail The smiles of Fortune flatter to deceive, And, from the present gloom, the soul conveys, In the ensuing narrative, extracted from the writings of a traveller of unquestionable veracity, the reader will discover new proofs of the marvellous character of man. Perhaps every country furnishes some whimsical example of similar absurdity; but we do not instantly remember a parallel to the barley of a provincial town, and the durable resentment of the populace. Were this story published at the Minerva Press, every reader would suppose himself engaged in the perusal of an adventure, as purely fictitious as any romance, which has figured in the annals of il-legitimate history. ED. "To the east of Paris, Lagny may be said to be famous for a mortal pun. The monks and inhabitants being in a state of sedition, the lord of Logres was ordered to reduce them in 1544. The people of Lagny defended themselves with fury, and punning on the name of Lorges, which in French signifies barley, threw sacks of that grain from the walls as food for him and his troops. This insult so enraged the besiegers, that the town being taken by storm, all the men were put to the sword, and the women abandoned to the brutality of the soldiers, which, however, soon repaired the defect of inhabitants. But the memory of this genealogy is far from being agreeable, and any allusion to it kindles deadly wrath among the descendants. If any thoughtless or uninformed stranger were simply to say, What is the price of barley? the consequences would be terrible. He would be instantly seized and scarcely escape drowning in a fountain which is in the middle of the town. In 1766, the niece of a curate in the environs, at the instigation of some malicious person, asked the fatal question, and with the utmost difficulty, and the greatest exertions of the curate of the place, escaped from the frantic populace. Another adventure shall be related in the words of the sufferer. Passing through Lagny in October 1779, when I was very young, I asked in pure pleasantry and thinking the story fabulous, "What is the price of barley?" I was immediately attacked by several women, who attempted to seize the bridle of my horse, and was obliged to set off at full gallop. But the cries of barley, barley, excited the shopkeepers to throw chairs, brooms, and other machinery to stop me, or to trip the feet of my horse. At length a miller dismounted me so quickly that I had barely time to save myself in the inn, called The Bear, which was luckily near at hand. I was pursued by boatmen, millers, and porters, who forced the door of the chamber, seized my knife, and were proceeding to execution; but the publican rushing to my assistance, I escaped by a side door into a neighbouring house. When night approached, crowds returned from the vintage, and forced the gates of the inn, examining cellars, garrets, beds, presses, and chimneys; some even entered the house where I was, but did not find my chamber. On looking through the window, I do believe there were fifteen hundred persons, men and women, and some of a superior sort. When they were dispersed by the darkness, thirty remained to keep guard. Suspicious circumstances forced me to seek another house in the night; but seeing the mob continue all the following day, I sent for a merchant, who lent me clothes to disguise myself, and I withdrew on foot to Crecy. The fury and inhumanity of the populace, their oaths and abuse can scarcely be conceived; and VOL. III. X X such had been my fear that I was long confined with a dangerous disorder. To check this infatuation, decrees of the police have been issued at different times, and registered in the parliament of Paris 1785, declaring a fine of thirty livres against any person who shall at Lagny ask, What is the price of barley? and the same fine against any persons of Laguy who shall use violence on account of this fatal question. And now whenever barley is sold there, the seller must merely. open the sack, and the price is concluded without mention of the grain. Grosbois, the sometime chateau of Gen. Moreau, is five leagues from Paris, on the south-east. It is a stately house, with noble avenues, situated in a large wood, whence the name; and the gardens are spacious and agreeable. This was the first retreat of Barras, when Bonaparte seized the reins of power, but he afterwards retired to Brussels. At Charenton is a religious house, which at length became a refuge of the insane, to which use it is still dedicated. The infamous author of the romance of Justine, was here detained by order of government, during the monarchy. The savage cruelty, the diabolical depravity, the perverted reasoning, in a word, the insanity of Vice, displayed in that production, the very disgrace of human nature and of the faculties of man, most justly entitled the author to this residence. Other books of the same erotic description, though dangerous to youth, are most innocent incitements to fulfil the strongest command of nature, when compared with this detestable rhapsody, in which love itself, whic htends to impart happiness and diminish egotism, is converted into an engine against the chief bond of society, and a mean of such selfish and cruel gratification as madness alone could conceive. The count de Sade, the author, remained in confinement at Charenton, till the revolution, when the madmen without attacked those who were within. The madhouse being taken by storm, the count de Sade appeared, declaimed against the government, (his praise would have been an indelible stain) and sounded some periods of that eloquence which makes Virtue tremble, and puts Reason to flight. He was delivered; and by way of miracle, the earth did not open to swallow him. But as soon as a firm government appeared he was again lodged among the insane, at Bicetre, where he remains. There is a beautiful recent map of the environs of Paris, in twelve sheets; but the pocket map by Picquet, will be found sufficient for the use of the traveller, and it is to be regretted that, having been published during the reign of Jacobinism, the names are altered; thus, Mont Matre is, forsooth, Mont Maràt, St. Denis is Franciade, Montmorency Enguien, St. Germain is the Montagne de Bon Air, &c. But the first sheet of the great map of France, by Cassini, may still be regarded as the most useful and convenient delineation of the environs of Paris. The following sentiments occur in one of the letters of Henry Kirk White, a young man of very splendid talents, who was himself seated sufficiently long at an attorney's desk to obtain something more than a bird's eye view of the profession. The general reader, whether he has the honour to belong to the bar or not, will readily subscribe to the good sense and accuracy of discrimination which Mr. White displays. I think the noise of the overbearing petulance of -- and the invincible assurance of —, will readily yield to that pure, chaste, yet manly eloquence which you so nobly cultivate. It seems to me, who am certainly no competent judge, that there is a uniform mode, or art of pleading in our courts, which is in itself faulty, and is moreover, a bar to the higher excellencies. You know, before a barrister begins, in what manner he will treat the subject; you anticipate his positiveness, his complete confidence in the stability of his case, his contempt of his opponent, his voluble exaggeration, and the vehemence of his indignation. All these are of course. It is no matter what sort of a face the business assume. If Mr. - be all impetuosity, astonishment, and indignation on one side, we know he would have not been a whit less impetuous, less astonished, or less indignant on the other, had he happened to have been retained. It is true, this assurance of success, this contempt of an opponent, and dictatorial decision in speaking are calculated to have effect upon the minds of a jury; and, if it be the business of a counsel to obtain his ends by any means, he is right to adopt them; but the misfortune is all these things are mechanical, and as much in the power of the opposite counsel as in your own; so that it is not so much who argues best, as who speaks last, loudest, and longest. True eloquence, on the other hand, is confident only when there is real ground for confidence ; trusts more to reason and facts than to imposing declamation, and seeks rather to convince than to dazzle. The obstreperous rant of a pleader may, for a while, intimidate a jury; but plain manly argument, delivered in a candid and ingenuous manner, would gain the confidence of a jury, and would find the avenue of their hearts much more open than a man of more assurance, who, by too much confidence where there is much doubt, and too much vehemence where there is greater need of coolness, puts his hearers continually in mind that he is pleading for hire. There seems to me so |