AND Journal of Belles Lettres, Arts, Sciences, etc. This Journal is supplied Weekly, or Monthly, by the principal Booksellers and Newsmen throughout the Kingdom: but to those who may desire No. 177. REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. BARRY CORNWALL'S NEW POEM. SATURDAY, JUNE 10, 1820. run smooth-Orsini returns, and Marcian 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, tween, Flashing and wandering thro' the dell below, 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 Thus understood, we proceed to Marcian Colonna. Oh! long as lips shall smile or pitying tears 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, Divided, as the obsequious vapours light She, like the solitary rose that springs 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 Lapsing thro' sylvan haunts deliciously. The author's descriptive powers may be appreciated by his landscape of the mountain scenery, where the convent of Laverna stood There is a lofty spot What shape he pleases, and when once begun We pass to the reception of Marcian, when recalled to his father's mansion. Then Marcian sought his home. A ghastly gloom Hung o'er the pillars and the wrecks of Rome, moon, Who looked abroad in fear and vanished soon. And murmuring 'tween his banks the Tyber ran. He pressed his hand, and he returned the clasp, And then he bade him quite forget the past. Like one who had lost and sought, (in vain,) a And now and then a smile, but not a tear, arms Over her breast, and turned her from the light, To scare some doubtful phantom from her sight. Saw with a glance, as none but women see, Oh power of Love, so fearful and so fair- Into eternity, memorial things To deck the days to come-thy revellings Once-only once-('twas in a lonely hour) O'er desert heaths, and on the Latian plains 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, Dance and Arcadian tale and sylvan song, Sun And laurel's green to deck the poet's head, And Julia saw the youth she loved again : burst. Her figure came before him like a dream Over the terrors of his wildest hour? He listened now, to mark if he could bear For in her heart her own young love awoke And she gate mate before him: he, the while, allied To gentle pleasures still, on the green hill's Would stretch his length upon the evening Shedding sweet tears to see the great sun pass Grew his familiar, and in caverns deep, He listened to the Wind-God riding by Unto the echoes, now fierce torrents flow, For then the bard was loved and honoured. We now leave the narrative, as endensed in our introductory notice; and passing by the admirable account of the storm which overtook Colonna and his love, when fleeing from Italy, hasten to lay before our readers, we think, the most beautiful passage that the author has yet written :-an apostrophe to Ocean-worthy of the highest name in the records of poetry. O thou vast Ocean! Ever sounding Sea! Or motion yet are moved and meet in strife. Ruffles its surface, and no spirits dare This passage appeared in the Literary Gazette, Thou trackless and immeasurable Main! On thee no record ever lived again To meet the hand that writ it: line nor lead King of his watery limit, who 'tis said -Hark! the timbers part own. -They plunge into the waters and are gone. groans, Which the waves stifle quick, and doubtful tones. Like the faint moanings of the wind pass by, And horrid gurgling sounds rise up and die, And noises like the choaking of man's breath -But why prolong the tale-it is of death. The state of the Colonna family is now pathetically described. The lovers, however, escape the sea. -When the winds and thunder met In tumult, and around in many shapes Darker than Death itself, the foreheads o'er Which, streaming black upon the strand, lay there The image of his fortunes-Dark and wild, He sate and watched her, as a nurse might do, sate Beside her like an image. Death and Fate sun Rose upon him: on him?-his task was done. The palace of his fathers, once so gay, cay: The pillars yellowed in the marble halls, stains On thee-and dost thou like a leaf decay, Fairest of all the world, thy tale is told : brain Was fever-struck with love and jealous pain, Some said that he did roam, & wretched man, Of vast America, with savage men, What object is there now to know? what gain? My tale hath reached its end: yet still there A superstition in those piny dells, gone. Having finished our extracts from the principal poem (for the volume contains some dramatic scenes, and miscellaneous pieces for notice hereafter); we shall be very short in our closing remarks. The great popularity which attends this writer, is, we think, to be traced to a simplicity of manner peculiarly his own, to a fine feeling for the pathetic, with which his verse abounds; and to a taste and refinement of perception, which leads him to revel among the delicate luxuries of poesy. If we add, that there is sometimes a little apparent affectation in these elegancies, it is but in verbal criticism, and not to the ideas or images, that we can apply the charge. For example, we are of opinion that the verb to do, is too often employed; after a few repetitions of that forin of construction, the recurrence of did becomes a mere expletive. A like observation may be made on the superabundant use of parentheses, and of such expressions as ""Twas said," &c. The phrase, "progress'd," (p. 23) is one of American polities, not of English poetics. "Wench" has been rendered by custom, but a low word for a young girl, however sanctioned by the olden bards; and the author seems too fond of "beauty" (we mean the word) with all its derivatives. Homer sleeps occasionally the boat in which the lovers sail, is afterwards a barque and a ship; but these are mere specks on a very brilliant production. What the composition is, will be seen from our quotations: there are some rugged, and one or two prosaic lines, which infect the passages where they occur with an air of blank verse; but upon the whole, the style is eminently sweet, as the conceptions are truly poetical. of Essays, and Sketches of Life and Charac- 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 "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- 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 On the monument of St. Jean d'Angely, who died 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. 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. emain nous reviendrons te voir. Apeine cinq printemps vecut notre Pauline, Repose en paix, ma bien aimée. Celeste ence for thousands of poor people? This Le Malheur, l'Amour, A son excellente Zephirinc. The result which I would enforce is, "Thus, ignorant of one another's interest and occupations, the friendships of Loudon contain nothing more tender than a visitingcard. Nor is it much better,—indeed it is |