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From the chapter devoted to the descrip- them the manner in which he had murdered | ty to remain on the face of the land, and let tion of the manners and customs of the In- his good master, and expressed his repent- their property of every description be condian Islanders, we shall now proceed to ance and abhorrence of the crime he had fiscated. Should the parents or children of make a few selections, such as seem to pos- committed. This he did with great com- the sorcerer reside in a distant part of the sess the greatest novelty, and to be best cal-posure, yet an instant afterwards he burst country, let them be found out and put to out in the bitterest complaints of unquench-death, and let their property, though conable thirst, and raved for drink, while no cealed, be sought for and confiscated. one was allowed to alleviate, by a single drop of water, the excruciating torments he underwent."

culated to illustrate Mr. Crawfurd's talents as a historian. For the first characteristic feature, however, we are indebted to Stavorinus, whom Mr. C. quotes as having justly exemplified the patience and fortitude of the natives. A macassar slave was impaled; and the circumstances of this dreadful execution are thus related.

"When the proper cord is touched, there is hardly any thing too gross for the belief of the Indian islanders. Some years ago it was The Indian Islanders are also superstitious; discovered, almost by accident, that the and the author tells us, that "It would re- scull of a buffalo was superstitiously conquire a volume to describe all the forms ducted from one part of the island to an"The criminal was led, in the morning, under which these weaknesses are displayed. other! The point insisted upon was neto the place of execution, being the grass They believe in dreams, in omens, in for-ver to let it rest, but keep it in constant proplat, which I have before taken notice of, tunate and unfortunate days, in the cast-gressive motion. It was carried in a basket, and laid upon his belly, being held by four ing of nativities, in the gift of supernatural and one person was no sooner relieved from men. The executioner then made a trans-endowments, in invulnerability, in sorcery, the load than it was taken up by another; for verse incision at the lower part of the body, enchantments, charms, philtres, and relics. the understanding was, that some dreadful as far as the os sacrum; he then introduced There is not a forest, a mountain, a rock, imprecation was denounced against the man the sharp point of the spike, which was or a cave, that is not supposed the habita- who should let it rest. In this manner the about six feet long, and made of polished iron, tion of some invisible being, and not content scull was hurried from one province to aninto the wound, so that it passed between with their own stock of these, their compre-other, and after a circulation of many hunthe back bone and the skin. Two men drove hensive faith has admitted those of Western dred miles, at length reached the town of it forcibly up, along the spine, while the ex-India, of Arabia, and of Persia. To lend an Samarang, the Dutch governor of which ecutioner held the end, and gave it a proper implicit belief to all these, characterizes seized it and threw it into the sea, and thus direction, till it came out between the neck alike the high and the low, from the prince the spell was broke. The Javanese expressand shoulders. The lower end was then put to the peasant. These superstitions are ge- ed no resentment, and nothing further was into a wooden post, and rivetted fast; and nerally harmless and inoffensive, but, at heard of this unaccountable transaction. With the sufferer was lifted up, thus impaled, and other times, the delusions to which credu- whom, or where it originated, no man could the post stuck in the ground. At the top of lity exposes these people operate in the tell. In the month of May, 1814, it was the post, about ten feet from the ground, most dangerous and formidable manner. Of unexpectedly discovered, that in a remote there was a kind of little bench, upon which the less dangerous forms which it takes, I but populous part of the island of Java, a the body rested. The insensibility or forti- shall give as an example the frequent prae- road was constructed, leading to the top of tude of the miserable sufferer was incredible. tice of professed robbers in Java of throw the mountain Sumbeng, one of the highest He did not utter the least complaint, excepting a quantity of earth from a newly opened in the island. An enquiry being set on foot, when the spike was rivetted into the pillar; grave into the house they intend to plun- it was discovered that the delusion which the hammering and shaking occasioned by it der, with an implicit belief in its potency gave rise to the work had its origin in the seemed to be intolerable to him, and he then in inducing a deadly sleep. Having suc-province of Banyumas, in the territories of bellowed out for pain; and likewise once ceeded in casting a quantity of this earth the Susunan, that the infection spread to again, when he was lifted up and set in the into the house, and, if possible, into the beds the territory of the Sultan, from whence it ground. He sat in this dreadful situation of the inhabitants, they proceed with con- extended to that of the European power. till death put an end to his torments, which fidence in their plunder. It is not the rob- On examination, a road was found constructfortunately happened the next day, about bers alone that has an entire belief in the effi-ed twenty feet broad, and from fifty to sixty three o'clock in the afternoon. He owed cacy of this practice; the conviction is miles in extent, wonderfully smooth and this speedy termination of his misery to a equally strong on the minds of those who well made. One point which appears to light shower of rain, which continued for are the objects of his depredations. Quan- have been considered necessary was, that the about an hour, and he gave up the ghost tities of the earth, carefully preserved in road should not cross rivers, the consehalf an hour afterwards. There have been cases, have been repeatedly brought to me quence of which was, that it winded in a instances, at Batavia, of criminals who have in the course of my official duties, found on thousand ways, that the principle might not been impaled in the dry season, and have re the persons of robbers, who did not fail, be infringed. Another point as peremptorily mained alive for eight, or more days, with- when interrogated, to be very explicit in insisted upon was, that the straight course out any food or drink, which is prevented to their accounts of its effects. The baleful ef- of the road should not be interrupted by any be given them by a guard who is stationed fects of superstition on the minds of an ig- regard to private rights; and in consequence at the place of execution, for that purpose.norant and untutored people, is exemplified trees and houses were overturned to make One of the surgeons of the city assured me, in the laws against sorcery, found in the an- way for it. The population of whole disthat none of the parts immediately necessary cient code of Java, which is in force at this tricts, occasionally to the amount of five and to life are injured by impalement, which day in Bali. The following is an example: six thousand labourers, were employed on makes the punishment the more cruel and If a person write the name of another the road, and among a people disinclined to intolerable; but that, as soon as any water on a shroud, or on a bier, or on an image active exertion, the laborious work was neargets into the wound, it mortifies, and occa- of paste, or on a leaf which he buries, sus-ly completed in two months; such was the sions a gangrene, which directly attacks the pends from a tree, places in haunted ground, effect of the temporary enthusiasm with more noble parts, and brings on death al- or where two roads cross each other, this is which they were inspired. It appeared in the most immediately. This miserable sufferer sorcery. If a man write the name of ano- sequel, that a bare report had set the whole continually complained of unsufferable thirst, ther on a scull, or other bone, with a mix- work in inotion. An old woman had dreamt, which is peculiarly incident to this terrible ture of blood and charcoal, and places the or pretended to have dreamt, that a divine punishment. The criminals are exposed, same at his threshold in water, this also is personage was about to descend from heaven during the whole day, to the burning rays sorcery. Whatever man does so, shall be on the mountain Sumbeng. Piety suggested of the sun, and are unceasingly tormented put to death by the magistrate. If the mat- the propriety of constructing a road to faciliby numerous stinging insects. ter be very clear, let the punishment of death tate his descent, and divine vengeance, it be extended to his parents, to his children, was rumoured, would pursue the sacrilegious and to his grand children. Let no one es- person who refused to join in the meritorious cape. Permit no one related to one so guil-labour. These reports quickly wrought on

"I went to see him again, about three hours before he died, and found him conversing with the bystanders. He related to

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the fears and ignorance of the people, and ground. When he advances and retires, he the other to destroy. One bids magnificent they heartily joined in the enterprise. The moves as if on all fours, and crawls or reeps edifices rise like exhalations" from the, old woman distributed slips of palm leaves rather than walks. There is one inode of de- earth, to delight the eye with the beauty of to the labourers, with magic letters written monstrating affection and respect, particu- their proportions, and the mind with anticiupon them, which were charms to secure larly nauseous and indelicate. It consists in pations of the commercial, the charitable, them against wounds and sickness. When the superior's offering to the inferior the or the hospitable purposes for which they this strange affair was discovered by the na-chewed refuse of the betel and areca prepa- may be intended. The other fells venerable tive authorities, orders were given to desist ration, as a mark of great affection, which trees to the ground, and robs the face of the from the work, and the inhabitants returned the latter swallows with much satisfaction." country of its greatest ornament, in deprivwithout murmur to their wonted occupa- It may be new to many to learn of what ing it of the thick and varied foliage which tions. It seldom, however, happens in Ja- this complimentary mouthful consists. The at once affords shelter to the birds, and shade va that these wide-spread delusions terminate chew is made up of the pungent and aro-to the cattle and the traveller; whilst the so happily as in the instances which I have matic leaf of a species of pepper vine, which hearts of those who have associated the requoted. They are much more frequently ac-grows luxuriantly, and with little care; a membrance of the spreading branches with companied by formidable insurrections, and small quantity of terra japonica, an agreeable every recollection of their youth, are made take place in times of anarchy, or when a bitter astringent; a minute proportion of sad by seeing them laid prostrate at the province is goaded to resistance by excessive quicklime; and, above all, the fruit of the command of a dupe, to reward the strataextortion, or other form of mal-government. areca palm, which, in one or two of the gems of a knave. He who builds confers a When a province is in this unfortunate situ-languages, we find distinguished by the name benefit on posterity. He who games too ation, the most contemptible pretender will of the fruit.' This last is gently narcotic, often affronts the memories of those who have a crowd of followers; and one of any and hence, no doubt, the charm which ren-have preceded him, by gradually parting talents will be sure to head a formidable re-ders the whole preparation so bewitching to with all that they had delighted themselves volt. Hence the crowd of pretenders under those who use it. Persons of all ranks, from in amassing for his enjoyment. He who the name of Kraman, that in all ages have the prince to the peasant, are unceasingly builds, however ruinous the pursuit may be disturbed the peace of Java. Hardly a year masticating it, and seem to derive a solace to himself in the end, employs hundreds of passes that some vagabond does not declare from it which we can scarce understand, and industrious persons in the course of it; himself a king, a saint, or a prophet, pro- which they cannot explain. When the pre- and at least leaves a memento behind him, claiming his intention of redressing some paration, through mastication, is mixed with that his fortune was not exhausted by low carthly grievance, or pointing out some new the saliva, the latter assumes a dirty brownish or vicious pursuits. He who games, on the road to heaven. Some of those impostors red, which colours the teeth, gums, and lips, contrary, at every throw of the dice injures go the length of preaching a new religion, leaving, as it dries upon the latter, a black-the innocent and the helpless; and when he whilst others content themselves with de- coloured margin. These nauseous particu- finds himself and those who may unhappily claring their lineal descent from some popu- lars are, to the surprise of strangers, consi-be connected with him reduced to beggary, lar monarch of ancient Javan story." dered a beauty, such is the effect of custom. through his wretched infatuation, he cannot No mouth is thought handsome that is not even ascertain who has gained the property engaged in chewing the betel, and in their which he knows only that he has lost, and lost poetry a lover is often described comparing for ever. I need not, however, undertake that of his mistress to the fissure in a ripe the defence of building, for any partiality pomegranate; the aptness of the simile con- I entertain towards it myself; on the consisting in the comparison of the stained teeth trary, the aversion I have for it, in all its to the red grains of the fruit, and of the black branches, even its minor departments of stain on the lips, to the hue which the broken" repairing and beautifying," as the churchand astringent rind assumes on exposure to the air.

Like other Orientalists, their ceremonies and domestic usages are widely different from those which Europeans are accustomed to look upon as essentially polite and correct, in their external demeanour. With them, for example, "it is respectful to cover the head, instead of uncovering it as among us. It is respectful to sit instead of standing. It is the very highest degree of respect to turn one's back upon a superior, and often presumption to confront him. It is the custom to sit cross-legged and on the ground. When an inferior addresses a superior, his obeisance consists in raising his hands, with the palms joined before his face, until the thumbs touch the nose. This he repeats at the end? of every sentence, and if very courtly, at the conclusion even of each clanse. When equals meet, their salutation is cold and distant, but in the ordinary intercourse of life, a relative superiority or inferiority of condition is usually confessed, and a demonstration of it constantly takes place. If a son has been long absent from his father, he throws himself at his feet and kisses them. A demonstration of affection, less profound, would extend the embrace only to the knee; but a very obsequious courtier will sometimes take his monarch's foot and place it on his head. The association between loftiness and humility of manner, and physical superiority and inferiority, appears to be constantly present to their minds. An inferior never stands upright before a superior. If he stand at all, the body is always bent; if he sit, it is the same thing, and his eyes are fixed to the

* Kraman is a word of the Javanese language, meaning "rebel."

(To be continued.)

The Hermit in London; or Sketches of
English Manners. Vols. 4 and 5.
London, 1820. 12mo.

wardens term it, is such as to have lately reduced me to the necessity of looking for lodgings, until sundry operations should be performed in my own habitation, which I have deferred so long, that I began to be afraid of literally fulfilling the proverb of "pulling an old house about my ears." To remain under the same roof with a host of No publication can have less to say bricklayers, plasterers, white-washers, paintof this work than the Literary Gazette, ers, paper-hangers, plumbers, glaziers, carin which so many of these popular Es-penters, smiths, and all the rest of the nusays originally appeared. We shall merous tribe which modern refinements merely state that these two volumes are render necessary personages in the conof a character similar to the three which structing or repairing of a dwelling, would be disagreeable to most men; to a hermit, preceded them, and that they complete like myself, impossible.-I had only, therethe Hermit in London. We subjoin fore, to chuse between two evils-to one of the papers as a remembrancer go to an hotel, or to take a furnished lodgof their nature; and have only to adding. "At an hotel one has perfect liberty," that the writer is in the press with the said I to myself-aye and great comfort Hermit in the Country, from which we too but then it is comfort that must be shall present our readers with several paid for and enormously; one has not the

selections in our ensuing Numbers.

LOOKING FOR LODGINGS.

A love of building has been reckoned by some persons, as ruinous a passion as a love of gaming; yet there can scarcely be inclinations of a more opposite description, at least, as far as the principles of each are concerned. It is the province of one to create, of

liberty of keeping one's purse in one's pocket and every time the waiter call ont so briskly, "coming, Sir," he reminds me that my money is going. Shenstone has described the pleasure of being at an inn, but he says not a word of the disagreeables attendant on leaving it-therefore as I cannot expect to share in one without a due proportion of the other, I must content my

self with the more moderate accommodation | to be done for?" Now all these are dis- | provided-for females, or unmerited unfortuof ready furnished lodgings. But how many agreeable queries, because they often remind nates, derive benefit from this resource? pros and cons are to be considered, in enter- a man of what he fain would forget; namely, How many wives of men of talent and genius, ing upon this kind of uncertain home! The of his misfortune if he be single, and per- struggling to establish the fame they well situation; the air; the neighbourhood; the haps of his wife, if he be in the holy banns deserve, cheerfully endeavour to assist their outside of the house; the inside; the furni- of wedlock, but separated by fate, by mis-husbands by this means, during the season ture; the landlady, generally a weighty con- conduct, or by narrowed circumstances; and of obscurity and hardship? Such characters sideration; and last, though seldom least, the having an establishment or not, is ano-know how to act towards the inmate of their the terms. Innumerable are the fears and ther question of uncomfortable tendency: roof; can feel for his wants, take an interest doubts on taking a lodging. Does the house for it may either remind a man of heavy in his welfare, and respect his situation whesmoke? Never, but for the first time. Is charges and tradesmen's lengthened bills, or ther retired, studious, sick or solitary. Can the family quiet and orderly? Are there cost him a blush for his want of fortune; a true gentleman, then, be too delicate tofellow lodgers in this modern ark? (for a and lastly, the being done for has such an wards such as these, too correct in payment, man on ship-board and in a lodging house equivocal sound, that it might puzzle a con- too nice in blending good breeding with his are alike, in being fixed, for a part of their juror to solve the meaning in a moment. conduct in every respect? short passage through life, with companions). In answer to these kind inquiries, I stated The man who makes an inn of the humWhat sort of a woman is the landlady likely my solitary lot in the world, and begged to ble roof of genteel poverty, is an ignorant to be? If boisterous, a man wishes to endure ask, in return, if the good lady was married ruffian. Nay, indeed, I could never enter an the gale as short a time as possible: if talk- herself since she came to that. Whether inn without a feeling of interest for my fellow ative, she is the bore of his studies and re- I might expect matrimonial concerts of vo- men there and it good treatment and fair flections. Yet there is a degree of humanity cal performance? and whether she could af- charges accompanied my fare, I considered as well as complaisance in enduring garru- ford me the attendance which I required? that I owed a subordinate debt of gratitude lity, when it has kindness or attention for its She smiled at these counter-questions to the landlord, for the remote species of main object. Is she curious (she generally which proved that she was not an unmarried hospitality named civil and kindly accommois)? that becomes troublesome always, and person; because she then would have dation. A fellow traveller once asked a sometimes dangerous. Is she handsome? thought it necessary to blush, or to hang surly cynic, whether he did not observe that Still more dangerous. Very ugly? That's down her head, or to look archly, or to play the inn-keeper at whose house they had restdisgusting. A large family? Very hostile with the ring finger. Neither was she aed had a remarkably open countenance? The to a thinking man. A scold? One must widow: for then bon gré or malgré, she latter replied, that he observed nothing open move in a week. Has she a drunken hus- would have sighed, and looked as interesting in the house, except an open door and open band? or does she herself, in the decline of as she could." Nor had she a bad husband: hands. One who could thus close his heart life, discover that Cupid is a treacherous and else would she have looked grave, and pro-and his accounts with his fellow-creatures, mischievous urchin, and therefore turn to bably have begun a chapter of grievances. should travel through life alone. To the Bacchus for support or consolation? Is she She replied, that she was married, that she child of sensibility there is no class, no situover religious, so as to sing psalms aloud? had a small family, and that her husband was ation, no abode, which excludes the moveIf so, she probably is a hypocrite. But the struggling with the world, and opposing in- ments of the heart, which forbids kindly inqueries are endless. And now, conceive dustry to hard times. I immediately felt tercourse, or prevents his sympathies from that I am knocking at the door. "Lodg-an interest in their mutual welfare, and paid coming into action, whether in a lodging, an ings to let" appears in a clerk-like hand. inn, a stage-coach, or a passage-boat: for Tant pis! a fellow of the law perhaps ! one the journey is always that of life; man is who charges legally for every thing: a bro- A man may proudly enter an inn, com- our companion, humanity the first and the ken down attorney. But the door opened. mand about him, treat all with indifference, most pleasurable duty. 1, at least, may euThere was also a bell. 66 Well," said I to from mine host, or fat hostess, down to the logize such feelings; for it is owing to them myself, "if this knock and ring' announce flippant waiter and John the ostler. He that though some might deem me solitary in an office, I perch not here; or if this is may be so absent or self-important, as not to the world, I have never yet found myself Miss Winter's bell,' I will have nothing to know the man of the house from boots, or alone-although I style myself the do with the concern; and if it be a dancing boots from the bull dog: but in a lodging, master's, a tooth-drawer's, an accoucheur's, it is otherwise. The objects are fewer; they or a musician's bell, I must also shift my are more immediately proximate; they as-A Catalogue of the Pictures of Grosvenor birth, else may I be fiddled, diddled, drum-sume a more important form. The rattling House, London; with Etchings from the med, trumpeted or disturbed out of my wits." of the fresh post-horses, the mail horn, or whole Collection, accompanied by Histo But now to my landlady. She was a Dolly the chamber-maid, does not perpeturical Notices of the principal Works. By plump woman with a fine healthy complex-ally ring in your ears, so as to make you John Young, Engraver in Mezzotinto to ion. Not a votary of Bacchus, thought I, wish to be off, giving you at the same time his Majesty, and Keeper of the British Infrom this clear tint. She had in her coun- an inimical feeling towards the maker-out stitution. London, 1820. 4to. pp. 48. tenance nothing sharp, which always augurs of the bill. There one coup de chapeau at Of the splendid collection of pictures at ill. A man may then expect to be fleeced, parting does for host, hostess, family, and Grosvenor House, this publication conveys directly or indirectly; directly by an exorbi- all the tribe of charges; but in a lodging, an adequate and excellent idea. Without tant price, or indirectly by the never-ending you may have to pass your landlady daily on being made out with vain minuteness, the outlay for necessary trifles, most of which he the stairs, and bows and inclinations of cour- etchings are spirited, and sufficiently detailneither wants nor are they gotten for him. tesy may be exchanged very frequently ined for all the purposes for which they are Neither had she a saucy cocked-up nose: the course of each week between you; so intended. They give a perfect conception of for this a man always pays through the nose, that a man must be void of all sensibility, if the treasures which the noble Earl possesses either in money or comfort; and may expect he be wholly uninterested about the family a volley of sharp shot in the way of reproach, in which he lodges. if he submit not to the lady's humour, be it what it will. She had a warm smile, a sunbright eye, and something of benevolence, which made all bargaining impossible.

After mildly showing the apartments, she asked me those unwelcome questions —“ are you a married gentleman, or single? a family or not? an establishment, or are you

with tenfold pleasure the stipulated price of
my apartments.

The common race of lodging-letters, it is true, are guided by self-interest, and are callous to delicacy and scrupulous feeling towards their lodger: but yet there are many exceptions to the rule. How many widows of clergymen, of officers of the army and navy-how many reduced gentlewomen are forced to let lodgings? How many half

HERMIT IN LONDON.

from the easels of the greatest masters, whose various qualities are here very happily rendered by the graver, so that a just and accurate notion may be formed of their styles and subjects.

The basis of Lord Grosvenor's Gallery was laid by the late Earl, who purchased some of the best works in Lord Waldegrave and Sir Luke Schaub's collections; to which he added a good many capital pictures from Italy, as

well as several of the finest productions of English artists, such as Wilson, West, Gainsborough, Stubbs, Northcote, Hogarth, Hoppner, &c. The present Lord has still further enriched it with valuable specimens of the Italian, Dutch, and Flemish Schools; with the principal portion of the late Lord Lansdowne's paintings; the whole of those belonging to Mr. Agar, and many chefs d'ourre from different countries, including Murillo's, Rubens', Titian's, &c. of almost unequalled merit.

The Rubens' are the most novel, and not the least admirable ornaments to this splendid collection. No. 60 in the Catalogue is the Meeting of Abraham and Melchisedec, one of a series of six pictures, painted by that glorious artist, by order of Philip IV. of Spain, and presented by the monarch to Olivares, for his newly-built convent at Loeches. The Duc d'Alva succeeded to these pictures by inheritance; and when the French took possession of Madrid in 1808, he sold four of them to M. de Bourke, the Danish Minister, from whose hands they passed into the hands of Lord Grosvenor about two years ago. The other two found their way to the Louvre, where they now

are.

No. 60 is on canvas, and of the large size of 14 feet 4 inches high, 19 feet wide. No. 68 is another of the series, 14 feet by 14 feet, and the subject, the Evangelists. The others are the Fathers of the Church, Pope Gregory, St. Jerome, &c. of the same size; and (we imagine) the Israelites gathering Manna, which is 16 feet high and 13 feet 7 wide.

The Meeting of Jabob and Laban, by Murillo, and one of his masterpieces, is another of the works which the late war in Spain dispersed. It belonged to the Santiago family, and was seized by General Sebastiani, as part of the contributions levied by the robbers under his command.

But it would lead us too far were we to attempt to particularize the chief pictures in this superb collection, of which Mr. Young has etched one hundred and forty-three. Suffice it to repeat, that the catalogue is exactly what an artist or a man of taste would wish, either to refresh his recollection if he has seen the originals, or to furnish him, if he has not, with the means of conceiving their merits.

nocent daughter of a widowed clergyman,
forms the fondest attachment to De Morton,
whose life is saved on the coast near their
happy dwelling. He desires a secret union,
in order to avert the resentment of an uncle
on whom he is dependant; but the worthy
priest not only refuses his assent to this act,
but, censuring De Morton for gaining the
atfections of his child, when aware of the
existence of this obstacle to their marriage,
he prohibits further intercourse till it is re-
moved. The lover, after a long absence,
returns under the covert of night, and suc-
ceeds in persuading Ellen to elope with him.
A fictitious ceremony is performed; she
bears a child, and is deserted by the ruffian,
who has aggravated his guilt by withholding
all her applications to her father for forgive-
ness. Ellen endures the most poignant
misery, but at length resolves to seek her
once-blessed home, and consign her baby to
her parent's care before she expires. Her
toilsome journey, and the melancholy catas-
trophe of its close, are very touchingly paint-
ed: she finds her father dead, and gives up
the ghost upon his recent grave.

Before coming to those extracts by which
we mean to sustain our opinion of this tale
of domestic woe, we may briefly observe,
that the villany of De Morton is extravagant,
and we trust, too, more demoniacal than is
consistent with nature. The abandonment
of his victim is an event perhaps only too
probable; but why he should take means to
exclude her and the infant from all chance
of paternal mercy, is hardly to be accounted
for even on principles of excessive human
depravity. In point of versification, a too
frequent recurrence of the same common
place rhymes and epithets; a few tame lines,
and mean phrases; and occasional gramma.
tical oversights, are the most prominent de-
fects. In the management of metaphor, the
author is rarely successful. It is in
landscape, and in the delineation of tender
feminine feeling and distress, that her power
and excellence lie. She is also original;
though there are passages which betray an
intimacy with Thomson, Goldsmith, Scott,
Rogers, and Tighe, they are new develope-
ments rather than reminiscences, and the
produce of a mind enriched by judicious
reading, rather than the servile labour of
partial imitation.

for

Where rays of living light surround
Thy sacred fane, with laurels crowned,
And gushes with melodious flow
Thy fountain, from its source below.
I may not look with eagle gaze
Unshrinking on those living rays;
I may not soar on eagle's wing,
To drink of that celestial spring;
Reserv'd for bolder hands than mine
The amaranthine flowers to twine.

That on its borders glow;
But strays there from that sacred source,
No wand'ring rill, with silver course

That seeks the vale below?
Where pensile willows, on the brink
Of its pure crystal stoop to drink,
And the low violet's perfume
Betrays where lurks her purple bloom.
There might I haunt ;-enough for me
Far off, the laurell'd mount to see,
To breathe with deep inhaling sense
The floating odours wafted thence,
To catch the distant melody
Of golden harps, resounding high-
There might I haunt, and haply there
Of wild-flowers, weave a chaplet fair,
Such as the virgin brow of Taste
Might wear, by artless Feeling placed ;
Oh! might I to such meed aspire,
Blest were thy strains, my simple lyre!
Companion of my childhood thou,
Friend of my happy youth; and now
Kind soother of the days, o'ercast
With sad remembrance of the past.
But should the world's approving smile
(Reserved for happier minstrel's toil)
Withhold its sunny light from thee,
Submissive to the stern decree,
We'll hush the unsuccessful strain,
And seek our silent shades again.
Cold is the fondly partial ear

That would have listened to my lay;
And closed the eyes, whose suffrage dear

Had smiled the world's cold looks away. But still in solitude and shade Be thy low sounds, my lyre! essayed; No longer with presumptuous aim, One kindly fost'ring glance to claim, But that on life's dark lonely stream, Thou still wilt shed a cheering gleam, Smoothe its dark passage to the deep, And lull me to my latest sleep. The poem commences with a picture of the good Pastor, desolate in his old age, and then reverts to the chain of incidents by which he was deprived of his sole earthly comfort. The former contains these passages.

Ellen Fitsarthur: A metrical Tale, in five Cantos. London, 1820. pp. 134. We observe from a passage in this poem, that it is the production of a female; and gather further, that it is a first essay: its beauty, its purity of sentiment, its merits in descriptive poetry, and its pathos, would do honour to any masculine, or a more experienced pen. It affords us much pleasure to notice it in terms of such high commenimpression will be even stronger than we dation; but we are confident that its popular rate it at; for its nature and feeling will force a passage to every heart, while the slight blemishes offensive to critical taste, will escape the severity of censure, if not the accuracy of detection.

The story is very simple:-Ellen, the in

of our mentioning the faults of her perform-
We know not what the author may think
ance; but we can assure her, that did we not
greatly admire the talent she has displayed,
we should not have taken the trouble of
pointing them out. They are but the errors
of carelessness in some, and of the want of
practice in correctly critical composition in
other instances; but her fine vein of poetic
imagination, and her genuine pathos, of which
we shall now subjoin several deeply affect-
greater blemishes than those on which we
ing examples, would redeem a hundred fold
have animadverted.

A tasteful introduction claims a modest
place on the biforked hill for the fair writer.
We quote it entirely.

Parnassus! to thy heights sublime,
Thy awful steep, I may not climb

One tic, the purest and the best,
One earthly love he still confest,
That bound a widowed father's care
To one sweet blossom, frail and fair-
She whose young life's first clouded ray
Beamed on a dark and troubled day,
The guiltless messenger of death,
Bequeathed with love's expiring breath--
She who in smiling infancy
Had clasped his neck, and climbed his knee,
Whose first imperfect words, dispelling
That vibrates to that sound alone.
The silence of his widowed dwelling,

Had wakened in his heart the tone,

When first those lisping accents tried
Oh, moment of parental pride!
The purest hymn, which earth can raise,
An infant's, to its Maker's praise.
Sweet was the task her steps to guide,
When first they totter'd by his side,

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Unruffled flowed with noiseless way
Their stream of life-cach passing day,
And ev'ry season's course renewing
Some peaceful joy, some flowret strewing;
For where the heart's warin sunshine glows,
Its clime no change of season knows.
Pleasure but yields a faint perfume,
A perishing, imperfect bloom,
And happiness, of heav'nly birth,
But droops and languishes on earth;
Scarce budding on this mortal sphere,
Its fruit can never ripen here.

The fiendish arts of De Morton verify this
painful truth. His long absence preys on
the health of the confiding Ellen.
The heavy hours dragged slowly on,
Till days, long tedious days, were gone,
And hope, that with the morning rose,
Went down in tears at evening close.
""Twas passing strange! but undesigned-
De Morton could not be unkind."
Some cruel chance, some trust betrayed,
The promised joy so long delayed:
Or might it not Oh blest surmise!-
Might not that long delay arise
From happier cause? glad news to bring,
Perhaps himself was on the wing!
Perhaps, ere night, that voice so dear,
Might breathe glad tidings in her ear.
Night came, and day succeeded day,
Till weeks and months were passed away,
And still, nor line, nor message came,
Nor sound that bore De Morton's name.
Conjecture, baffled and deceived
So oft, no longer was believed;
And faint and fainter hope became,
Till quiv'ring like a dying flame,
Its fitful flash, and latent spark
At length expired, and all was dark.
On Ellen's cheek the roses faded,
The lustre of her eyes was shaded,
Exchanged their laughing glances bright,
For languid rays of humid lights
As hyacinths, the rain drops thro'
Tremble with darkly liquid blue.
Yet still upon her lips e'erwhile,
Linger'd a faint and sickly smile,
Nearer to grief than joy allied,
And worn in pious fraud, to hide
From a fond father's eye, the woe,

Whose inward depth mocked outward show.
The sun-beam that with golden ray
Falls on some lonely tomb's decay,
Shines thus, in seeming mock'ry shed,
Where all within is cold and dend.
No proud resentment claimed a part,
In the deep anguish of her heart:
All there was silent, meek distress,
And uncomplaining gentleness;

And still with wonted zeal she strove,
And tenderness of filial love,

Those thousand duteous cares to pay
That strew with flowers life's downward way.

A contrast between the sexes, their vir-
tues and their sufferings, is here sweetly
introduced.

To man, aspiring man! we yield
The trophies of the battle field;
To him be valour's lofty meed,

To him, her blood-stained wreath decreed;
The humbler garland, woman wears
Unsprinkled, but by pity's tears;
His be the triumph, proudly prov'd,
Danger and death to meet unmov'd;
To brave-exulting in his force-
The torrent in its mountain course;
To climb the giddy heights, where fame,
In her proud roll records his name;
But not in battle's bloody strife,
Nor in the mountain storms of life,
The noblest conflicts may be view'd
Of the pale martyr, fortitude.
Oft in the low and lonely glen,
She shuns the vain applause of men,
Content her conflict should be known
To the All-wise-and Him alone.
There seek her in her loveliest dress,
(Long suff'ring, mild, meek tenderness,)
In woman's fair and fragile form,
So bends the ozier, till the blast
That bends, but breaks not in the storm;
That rends majestic oaks is past;—
Behold her in the hour of pain
Her groans of agony restrain,
Lest, haply, the afflicting sound
Some anxious hearer's heart may wound:
With looks of love, behold her light
Expiring nature's filmy sight,
And with her last, low flutt'ring breath,
Speaks comfort from the bed of death.

Following the story, we copy the descrip-
tion of the evening when De Morton returns,
as a favourable specimen of the author's
skill in that species of poetry.
"Tis at the hour when day-light fades,

And stealing o'er the western sky,
Pale evening draws her misty shades,
That Mem'ry breathes her vesper sigh:
For then, mysterious Fancy's dream,
Holds with the dead communion high,
And then departed spirits seem

In plaintive murmurs to reply.
In ev'ry air that breathes around,
Their low unearthly voices sound,
And hands unseen, are sweeping shrill
O'er viewless harps, with dying thrill;
Indulging long that pensive dream,
Had Ellen staid, till evening's beanr,
And dusky twilight was receding,
And deeper, darker shades succeeding.
Yet still she lingered, list'ning still
To the low murmur of the rill;
Whose rippling music, chimed so well
With Fancy's fond romantic spell.
The moonlight on the brook was dancing,
In its clear stream, the stars were glancing,
And where th' enwoven branches made
A canopy of deeper shade,

With trembling beam, one star alone
In the deep pool's dark mirror shone.
On its soft margin, green and damp,
The glow-worm lit her tiny lamp,
Where waving fern-leaves feath'ry shade
A bower for fairy revels made,
And crystal drops of unsunned dew,
Collected by the moon's pale light,

-The nectar of the elfin crew,—

In cowslips cups were sparkling bright;
And minstrelsy long drawn, and sweet,
And full, for fairy banquet meet,
Far sounding, poured his tuneful throat,
Was near.-A thrush, with mellow note
And ever as its cadence died,

A rival song was heard to swell,
Where, from her hazel bower, replied
The strains of answ'ring Philomel.
Unclouded was the deep screne
Of Heav'n's dark azure,-save were seen
Around the moon soft fleeces roll'd,
Bright with the liv'ry of their queen,
The snowy flocks of Cynthia's fold.
One might believe in such a night

Good angels chose that silv'ry car,
To watch with looks of heav'nly light,
Their mortal charge, on earth's pale star.

That charge poor Ellen was not. She is
tempted by the dread of losing her beloved
for ever, to desert her paternal abode.
In agony she gazed around;
No foot approached, no blessed sound—
Died on her lips her father's name—
Alas! unheard-no succour came-
Oh! for a moment's pause to think—
To breathe--to pause on ruin's brink :
Yet, yet she lingers on its verge:
Dark late impels-wild terrors urge :-
Oh! for some saving hand-too late-
Behind her swung the closing gate:
Cold on her heart, as 'twere the knell
Of peace and hope, its echo fell.

Thus closes the 3rd Canto. The fourth is
the best part of the poem. The incipient
wretchedness of the deluded Ellen, when her
seducer relaxes in his attentions, is thus
portrayed-she thinks with agony on home.
When by her taper's sickly ray
List'ning for steps, she'd learnt to know
She watched the evening hours away,
Mongst all that throng'd the street below-
Then-whispered thought-" those passing feet
Are hurrying on some friend to greet;
Those eager steps are hast'ning by

To some dear home, some kindred tic--
Alas! no kindred heart, for me
Awaits in fond expectancy—
Alas! no home for me prepares
The welcome sweet of social cares ;
That lovely moon, so calm and pale,
Now gazes on my native vale :-
Oh star of night! thy beams may look
Ou its thick shades, and rippling brook,
But Ellen's eyes no more must dwell
On the sweet scene she loves so well.

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Ah, mother! would I were at rest
In thy dark grave, on thy cold breast;
All hearts reject ine, or forsake,
And mine-is mine too hard to break?
No-but one hope-one int'rest dear.
Detains the wretched loit'rer here-
A mother's hope-ah tender thought!
The last with earthly comfort fraught.

It came, the hour of suffʼring came,
And Ellen bore a mother's name,
And to a mother's throbbing breast,
A second, dearer self was prest.-
No voice of soothing love was near
In the dark hour of pain and fear;
No sympathising heart was there
A parent's new-born hopes to share;
No father with impatient claim,
Assuming proud that sacred name,

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