AND

Journal of Belles Lettres, Arts, Sciences,

etc.

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No. 177.

REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.

BARRY CORNWALL'S NEW POEM.

SATURDAY, JUNE 10, 1820.

run smooth-Orsini returns, and Marcian
and his bride fly their native land, she un-
conscious of the cause of their sudden de-
parture. For a period they dwell on the
shore in the humble disguise of fishers; but
here they are discovered by a " slave" of
Orsini. Again they fly, and take up their
residence in a cave on the Appenines, near
the convent where Marcian spent his early
that her first husband is alive she cannot,
years. Julia at length learns the fatal truth
dares not, live in love and sin, but takes
poison from the hand of Colonna, and dies.

MARCIAN COLONNA, with an early copy of which we have been favoured, will issue from the press next week. Its author has within a very short period risen upon the poetical horizon, and attained a degree of fame, such as many bards of no mean talents have toiled for during life in vain. There seems to have been a unanimous consent in the critical world to place him, even on his first essay, among the crowned heads of modern poesy. (heaven send that all crowned heads were equally popular) and he, like The first of the three parts, of which the other potentates, again comes travel-poem consists, opens with an apostrophe to ling forth, preserving his well-known Italy, and contains a fine coup d'ail upon incognito title of Barry Cornwall, But her poetic ornaments.

PRICE 8d.

And many a dizzy precipice sublime,
dizzy precipice
And caverns, dark as Death, where the wild air
Rushes from all the quarters of the sky:
Above, in all his old regality,
The monarch eagle sits upon his throne,
Or floats upon the desert winds, alone.
There, belted 'round and 'round by forests drear,
Black pine, and giant beech, and oaks that rear
Their brown diminished heads like shrubs be-

tween,

Flashing and wandering thro' the dell below,
And guarded by a river that is seen
Laverna stands. -It is a place of woe,
And 'midst its cold dim aisles and cells of gloom,
The pale Franciscan meditates his doom.

Such is the general outline of the story, from which ve annex as many examples While Marcian is inmured with these, far as our limits permit, and with as few re-different are the hours in the palace of marks as possible, because we think they Colonna. Revel reigns, and at one of the to their beauties. stand in need of no index to point attention splendid entertainments, Julia, the heroine, is thus introduced and painted.

though he affects this privacy, it is im- Yet first of all thy sons were they who wove
possible that he should avoid the ho-Thy silken language into tales of love,
mage due to genius; and it gratifies in thy own poets faery songs divine.
the gentle forms that shine
us to be the foremost to lay a tribute
before his throne. Nor will he, we
trust, he so despotic as to require a
slavish adherence.....our allegiance must
be that of Britons to a limited monarch;
and as poetic kings have no responsible
ministers, we must be permitted to no-
tice those points wherein we think them-
selves do wrong.

Thus understood, we proceed to Marcian Colonna.

Oh! long as lips shall smile or pitying tears
Rain from the eyes of beauty, long as fears
Or doubts or hopes shall sear or soothe the
Or flatteries softly fall on woman's cars,
heart,
Or witching words be spoke at twilight hours,
Or tender songs be sung in orange bowers:
Shall shine,more constant and almost as
Long as the stars, like ladies' looks, by night
bright:

So long, tho' hidden in a foreign shroud, Shall Dante's mighty spirit speak aloud; So long the lamp of fame on Petrarch's urn Shall, like the light of learning, duly burn; Marcian Colonna, though very different And he be loved-he with his hundred tales, in many essentials, reminds us powerfully of As varying as the shadowy cloud that sails Hamlet. His mind is unsettled by ear-Upon the bosom of the April sky, ly supernatural impression and severe And musical as when the waters run usage from his parents. He loves, and is wretched he feels the pressure of fate upon him, and has a sure presentiment that he never can be happy. Haunted by all the horrors of a morbid imagination, and perhaps, tainted with a hereditary insanity, he is plunged into a convent in order that his elder brother may enjoy without division the princely fortunes of his house. In his cell, Marcian alternately raves in despair and is soothed by the vision of Julia Vitelli, whom he had seen in Rome. After the lapse of some time, the heir of Colonna dies, and the younger son is restored to the world. Julia also revisits Italy, the widow of a brutal husband, Orsini, reported to have perished at sea. She is united to Marcian, whom love redeems from the gloom of his malady, and they are blessed in each other. But alas! the current of true love never did VOL. IV.

With his fair child, sole heiress of his name,
On that same night of mirth Vitelli came
She came amidst the lovely and the proud,
Peerless; and when she moved, the gallant
crowd

Divided, as the obsequious vapours light
Divide to let the queen-moon pass by night:
Then looks of love were seen, and many a sigh
Was wasted on the air, and some aloud
Talked of the pangs they felt and swore to
die:-

She, like the solitary rose that springs
In the first warmth of summer days, and flings
A perfume the more sweet because alone-
Just bursting into beauty, with a zone
Those gentle things to which she answered not.
Half girl's half woman's, smiled and then forgot

She Inquires for Marcian, and gathers his dark doom from the guilty looks of his brother and

-She dwelt upon that night till pity grew
Into a wilder passion: the sweet dew
That linger'd in her eye for pity's sake,'
Was-like an exhalation in the sun)
Dried and absorbed by love. Oh! love can
Tiktake

And murmuring 'tween his banks the Tyber ran.
In the Colonna palace there were tears
Flowing from aged eyes that seldom wept ;
Their son was gone-the hope of many years
Cold in his marble home for ever slept.
-The father met his child: with tremulous
grasp

He pressed his hand, and he returned the clasp,
And spoke assuring words—' that he was come
To soothe his grief and cheer his desolate
home,'

And then he bade him quite forget the past.
Thus hand in hand they sate awhile; at last
A deep deep sob came bursting from the gloom
That lid the far part of the palace room,
And, after, all was silent as the grave.
Colonna 'rose, and by the lamp that gave
A feeble light, saw, like a shape of stone,
His mother couching in the dusk, alone:
Her hand was clenched, and her eye wandered
wild

Like one who had lost and sought, (in vain,) a
child;

And now and then a smile, but not a tear,
Told that she fancied still her darling near;
And then she shook her head and crossed her

arms

Over her breast, and turned her from the light,
And seemed as tho' she muttered inward
charms,

To scare some doubtful phantom from her sight.
He spoke to her in vain: her heart was filled
With grief, and every passion else was stilled.
Was buried,-lost. Just as the mighty rains
Which, gathering, flood the valleys in the days
Of Autumn, or as rivers when snow decays
Sweep all things in their course, 'till nought re-
mains

Saw with a glance, as none but women see,
His secret passion, and home silently
She went rejoicing, 'till Vitelli asked
'Wherefore her spirit fell,'-and then she tasked
Her fancy for excuse wherewith to hide
Her thoughts, and turn his curious gaze aside. And wilds: At last, unto his widowed love
The second part commences with an invo-His cheek and darkness on his brow remained.
He came again, while yet the fever stained
Ication to love.

Oh power of Love, so fearful and so fair-
Life of our life on earth, yet kin to care-
Oh! thou day-dreaming spirit, who dost look
Upon the future, as the charmed book
Of Fate were open'd to thine eyes alone→→
Thou who dost cull, from moments stolen and
gone

Into eternity, memorial things

To deck the days to come-thy revellings
Were glorious and beyond all others: Thou
Didst banquet upon beauty once; and now
The ambrosial feast is ended!-Let it be.
Enough to say It was.'-Oh! upon me
From thy o'ershadowing wings etherial
Shake odorpus airs, so may my senses all
Be spell-bound to thy service, beautiful power,
And on the breath of every coming hour
Send me faint tidings of the things that were,
And aid me as I try gently to tell
The story of that young Italian pair,
Who lov'd so lucklessly, yet ah! so well..
The union and happiness of the youthful
pair now occupy the foreground; but these
are not perfect.

Once-only once-('twas in a lonely hour)
Distinguishable,-earth, and roots, and grass, He felt the presence of his evil power
And stones, and casual things, a mingled mass, Weighing upon him, and he left his home
Driven onward by the waters, and o'erborne
In silence, amidst fresher scenes to roam.
'Till but the stream is seen: So they who mourn'Twas said that he did wander far and wide
Deeply, and they, 'tis said, who love the best
In one wild mastering passion lose the rest.
The first meeting of the lovers, is
very delightful, and we quote it also as ex-
planatory of the poem.

O'er desert heaths, and on the Latian plains
Bared his hot forehead to the falling rains,
Which there bring death; and, with a heart

rove

--

This is, however, but a passing cloudThe dreadful storm appears in the shape of Orsini, whom Marcian encounters in one of his rambles. This event is exquisitely introduced.

Oh! full of languishment, too deep to last, The bridal hours in happy beauty passed, (The feather-footed hours!-and hoary Time Smoothed his pale brow, and with a look sublime,

From out the stream of joy a measure quaffed,
And young love shook his rosy wings and
laughed.

Dance and Arcadian tale and sylvan song,
Which to those moments did of right belong,
Went round and then returned; the morning

Sun

And laurel's green to deck the poet's head,

of

Essays, and Sketches of Life and Charac-
ter. By a Gentleman who has left
of his. Lodgings. 12mo. pp. 248.
There is no truth in this title page: the
writer is too clever a person to need to leave
his lodgings.
We mean neither of the bran-
ches of this proposition in the invidious sense
we not by clever man insinuate
what the Recorder of the city of London
insinuates, when, in passing sentence of
transportation, he tells the culprit that he is
too clever a man to stay in this country;
and as to leaving his lodgings, our only notion
of the author is, that though he has seen a
great deal of the world, and consequently
quitted many a temporary residence, henever
did so clandestinely, without paying his rent,
in the manner here pretended. In fact this
is clearly an assumed character, and so in-
consistent with the liberal and enlightened
principles maintained in the work, that the
mask drops off with the preface;
become acquainted with a very correct, able,
and intelligent essayist.

and we

National manners, politics, dramatic eriticism, the study of mankind, and lighter subjects, occupy this neat volume. In the treatment of these, we discover a mind excellently stored, the opinions of a temperate whig, and the views of a scholar and a gentleman. For our own parts, we should have been glad if more illustration had been assigned to general and literary topies, and less to political inquiries: the latter are indeed important enough to claim a full share of attention; but newspapers and pamphlets have so surfeited us with the eternal theine,

that it has become,

Vexing the dous as a twice told tale,

dull ear of a sleepy man.

a

“An English married lady, whom I knew, was remarkable for the plainness of her dress, the modesty of her manners, and the piety of her conduct. She went from Paris this year, with her head made into a stand for flowers, her cars never open but to flattery, and her mouth full of the pretty phrases, a less dissipation, stupidity of married wolittle flirtation,' 'innocent behaviour,' 'harmmen in England,' greater liberality in general society,' &c.—she is not improved by travel.

in the morning, nor always get up at half-past at last, told him his language might suit the
two in the afternoon. I thought this extra- vicious society of London, but was too wick-
ordinary, because I had observed, that those ed for Paris his companion, was, at the
who pretend to any fashion, and claim merit same time, telling an obscene story to a
from their want of punctuality, are generally young lady who fell asleep in the middle of
the most exact people possible to be always it; these young men are not improved by
twenty minutes too late wherever they go. travel.
My lodger on the contray, very often went
out riding upon his return from a ball, and
then came and dined by himself, or with my
family, at four or five o'clock: nor was he
of the usual placid, indifferent humour, that
men of the world generally are. Sometimes
darkness would come over his face, and he
his own room for a fortnight together. Every
would sit frowning at the chimney-piece in
now and then too he would go away for a
few days to Dublin or to Edinburgh, with-
out any apparent reason. But, on the 5th
of February last, he set out from my house,
about twelve at night, saying, he should re-
turn in a few days. Since that time I have
heard nothing of him; and being in great
want of money to pay my taxes, I went to
search, to see if there were any thing I could
sell for rent, of which I had not received one
farthing. I found a few old clothes, a dozen
pair of boots, and a large number of manu-
scripts: these were written in all kinds of
"A farmer of good sense, and good heart,
had ever heard of: some few were in English; peace: he found that the people were neither
languages, ancient and modern, more than I travelled through France soon after the
and one called, "On the State of the Consti- sulky in their manner, nor full of hatred
tution," is a totally different hand. I sus- against the English, nor utterly abandoned
pect it was written by the gentleman, for to vice and folly, as he had been told; but
there was only one, who used sometimes to on the contrary, civil, gay, and ingenuous;
pay my lodger a visit. With these papers nay, he found tolerable farmers, and honest
in my hand, I went off directly to Mr. Long-fathers of families: fewer paupers than in
man; and he has given me some hopes that England, and much good effected by the re-
I may recover a part of my rent by their volution; he imputed the old quarrels of his
means. Who the author may be, I do not nation with theirs to the government, and
pretend to say; or whether the last paper recommends to the people to give each other
relates at all to himself: I leave that to the the right hand of friendship-this man is
will improve others.

"I know a sensible English tradesman, who used to shut a Frenchman out of doors; and laughed at every body who did not speak English as correctly, and even as vulgarly as himself; he was so pleased with the kind reception he got in France, and the patient attention with which all his blunders were listened to, that he promises he will go and do likewise; he is improved by his travels.

What the author has done in this way, courteous reader; and I beg him to recol-improved, andom the Continent seldom

we must however admit he has done well; but in submitting him to the public tribunal, we shall, owing to the feeling just intimated, direct ourselves in preference to some of the other matter.

We cominence, as in order bound, with the preface, which sketches the frame-work of the design, in a pleasant manner.

ings.

Travellers

leet, that I am not answerable for the opi-
nions of a gentleman who has left his lodg-stay long enough in England to understand
JOSEPH SKILLETT." the nature of her institutions, and sound the
Sackville Street, May 24, 1820.
deep seas of her prosperity. The French
The following paper is recommended as a think they have shown great discernment, as
specimen by its brevity.

FOREIGN TRAVEL.

well as fiberality, in establishing Trial by Jury. They do not seem to perceive that Paris, 1815. the goodness of the stuff depends on the ma"About a year ago a gentleman, without terial of which it is made, and that a jury a servant, took an apartment on the first The English and the French, after an must not only consist of twelve men, but of floor of my house. He was, apparently, a absence of twenty years, have again met in twelve honest men; otherwise it is only a young man, but his look was not diffident the cominon intercourse of life, and are ex-shirt very well made with rotten thread. As and unpractised, like that of most young changing bows, ideas, and sentiments. men, but bold and decided, like the coun"overheard, one day, a young English-liable to be gained, or awed by Government, long as the members of juries in France are tenance of a lieutenant of hussars, who has man entertaining a French lady with pro- the institution is good for nothing, and indeed served a campaign or two, and as piercing as fligate principles, and profane jests: although rather pernicious. that of an Old Bailey lawyer. He wore she had often heard morality and religion long black hair over his forehead, and used attacked before, she was so scandalised by some words in his language, which I never the coarseness of his conversation, that she, saw any where but in the Bible and Common Prayer, and which, I suppose, are now out of use. He took two servants, and began to frequent the world. I observed he went to Almack's, and the French play; was admitted into the Travellers' club, wore stays, and used much starch in his neckcloth. Notwithstanding this, his life was not so regular as that of most young men of fashion. He did not always go out to dinner at a quarter before eight, nor always come home at five

"The Spaniards, in the same humour, borrowed from England the liberty of the press; but they forgot to provide for the * Our author's definitions in this respect are liberty of the individual who was to print; not quite so decisive as those of a celebrated and the consequence was, that any author dandy, of which we have heard. Walking one who published against the reigning authority, day with a friend on the Mall, he was saluted by was immediately seized and imprisoned. fashionable looking person, to whom he bow-England, like a work of genius, deserves and ed in return. "Who's that?" enquired the friend, "I dont know," was the answer, "all requires a slow and frequent perusal to unknow is, he's not a gentleman." How do know that? Why, I dined with the fellow the other day, and he was helped twice to fish, and wore a blue ander-waistcoat-he's not a gentleman."

a

I

you

derstand its beauties.

"Many an anomalous custom contains an important lesson, and many a paradoxical law is deduced from a profound and salutary observation."

That the author has reaped much benefit from travel, his acute and sensible observations on national character proves. In an excellent essay in which Spanish, Italian, German, French, and English claims to precedence, are drawn with a skilful hand, we find the Frenchman, after dilating on the glories of the grande nation, its restaurateurs, and theatres, observe

selves."

Tu reposes, mon fils, et ta mere
Est dans la douleur !

On the monument of St. Jean d'Angely, who died
on the day of his return to Paris from his exile.
Français de son dernier soupir
Il a salué la patrie.
Le même jour a vu finir
Ses maux, son exil,
Et sa vie.

that we should enjoy the conveniences of this life, without setting too great a price on them. Our occupation should always be to improve our own lives, and add to the happiness of our neighbours; but a pleasure which fairly offers itself, and which has no vice in it, should not, because it is a pleasure, be avoided."

A view of the state of society in London must conclude this notice.

"You will affirm that these sensual, and marketable enjoyments destroy the taste for "It may happen, that, although individomestic happiness; but it is not so: no. The following description of a great ruling duals may exist in a society, endowed with people are more attached than the French to passion appears to us to be finely expressed. every power of entertaining and enlightening, their near relations; and England cannot Ambition, instead of being always a yet the forms of society may be such that easily produce a mother more attached than bad passion, is one which has led to many is very difficult to obtain the full advantage Madame de Sevigné. It is the same with of the enterprises most beneficial to man- of their superior qualities. This difficulty is all the domestic relations; and it is sufficient kind. A desire of distinction inspired a the misfortune of London, where there are to go to the cemetière of Pere la Chaise, to Sully and a Franklin, as well as a Richelieu more men of cultivated understanding, of rebe convinced how true the affection which and an Alberoni. The difference is, that fined wit, and literary or political eininence, the mothers, and sons, and sisters of France this passion is subservient to the welfare of than in any metropolis of Europe. Yet it is have for each other. How simple, and yet mankind in good and well regulated disposi- so contrived, that there is little freedom, lithow tender the inscriptions upon the tombs! tions, whilst, in bad hearts, it tends only to tle Intimacy, and little ease in London sociThere the sister goes to renew the tender the aggrandisement of the individual. A man ety. To love some persons very much, and recollection of her sister, and a son to place of pure ambition will always sacrifice his see often those that I love,' says the old a garland over the grave of his mother. With own elevation to his principles, whilst he Duchess of Marlborough, is the greatest you, the dead are never mentioned, never whose ambition is impure will always sacri- happiness I can enjoy. But in London it is visited, and, I believe, seldom remembered. fice his principles to his own elevation." And equally difficult to get to love any body very With the kindest feelings to their relations, the same essay contains these just reflections. much, or to see often those that we have the French, it is true, do not think it incon"Great merit is often placed in abstinence loved before. There are such numbers of sistent to mix the sociability of a larger cir- from sensual enjoyments. There are, un- acquaintances, such a succession of engagecle; and they endeavour to be happy through doubtedly, examples of men who give so ex-ments, that the town resembles Vauxhall, the short period of existence allotted them; clusive attention to the preparation of luxu- where the dearest friends may walk round whilst the English lose half their lives in ries for their own personal use, that they and round all night without ever meeting. becoming acquainted with those who are can hardly afford time for the duties which If you see at dinner a person whose manners jumbled into the same half-century as them- they owe to their God and to their neigh- and conversation please you, you may wish bour: but for a person to say, that he must in vain to become more intimate; for the renounce the indulgence of the senses altoge- chance is, that you will not meet so as to ther, for fear of being entirely absorbed by converse a second time for three months, it, is to confess a degree of physical appe- when the dice-box of society, may, perhaps, tite and a want of moral taste, which does turn up again the same numbers. Not that but little honour to his temperance. Nor is it is to be inferred that you may not barely there any sense in supposing that we are in- see the same features again; it is possible tended to derive all our pleasures from the that you may catch a glimpse of them on the mind. Our bodily constitution is so joined to other side of St. James' Street, or see them the mental, that our pains are always com- near to you at a crowded rout, without a municated from the one to the other; and possibility of approaching. Hence it is, that the Stoic himself could not be insensible to those who live in London are totally indifferthe attack of a cholic, or the amputation of ent to one another; the waves follow so a leg. Why, then, should we not take ad- thick that any vacancy is immediately filled vantage of the dispensation of nature, which up, and the want is not perceived. At the also gives a participation of pleasures? And same time the well-bred civility of modern ought we to lose any opportunity of partak- times, and the example of some very poing in the bounty, and being grateful for the pular people,' have introduced a shaking of providence of our Creator? The man who hands, a pretended warmth, a sham cordialgives a feast is offended is none come to par-ity, into the manners of the cold and the take of it; may not the Supreme Being have warm alike the dear friend, and the acsomewhat of the same feeling to those who quaintance of yesterday. Hence, we hear reject his gifts? But, say the well-meaning continually such conversations as the followpersons who disdain and despise the usual ing Ah! how d'ye do? 1 am delighted conduct of the world, is it not wicked to con- to see you! How is Mrs. M- ?She sume in luxuries what might afford subsist- is very well, thank you.Has she any more children?'three months. I see you are been carrion? Any more! I have only talking of my former wife she has been dead these three years. Or My dear friend, how d'ye do, you have been out of town some time where have you been-in Norfolk - No, I have been two years in India.'—

We pave quoted this passage, not so much for its peculiar applicability and merit, as for the purpose of illustrating it, by a copy of a few of the inscriptions referred to, with which we were struck, as the author seems to have been, on visiting the interesting cemetery of Pere la Chaise, and which we consequently transferred to our memorandum book. The following are a few of them.

Written in pencil on the tomb of a girl aged 16.
Adieu, doux charme de la vie,
Plaisir d'aimer que j'eprouvais,
Adieu, trop malheureuse ami,
Qui me quitte, helas! pour jamais.

A ma Théodore.

A notre bon pèro,

Ses fils reconnoissants.

Oh ma fille chérie, tu m'es done ravi! Je n'avois que toi sur cette terre de douleur. Ah! sourquoi m'as tu abandonnée? Chere enfant, e reste plus à ta malheureuse mère, que les armes et le desespoir.