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of the Plague,' which indeed Mr. Moore himself notices, with high commendation of the corresponding passage. A coincidence so striking, and yet so entirely accidental, may serve to show the folly of those critics who are for ever raising the cry of plagiarism, and who cannot conceive the souls of two poets affected by the breath of the same inspiration.—But even this holy sigh fails to win admittance to the Peri who, once more winging her way to the Holy Land, floats through the dying sunshine that bathes Mount Lebanon, and circling the ruins of the Temple of the Sun at Balbec, alights beneath the shadow of its ruined columns. Here she sees a beautiful child at play among the rosy wild-flowers while a mạn of a fierce and savage aspect dismounts from his steed, in all the perturbation of guilt and remorse.

“ Yet tranquil now, that man of crime
(As if the balmy evening time
Softened his spirit) looked, and lay
Watching the rosy 'infant's play:
Though still, whene'er his eye by chance
Fell on the boy's, its lurid glance

Met that unclouded, joyous gaze,
As torches, that have burnt all night
Through some impure and godless rite,

Encounter morning's glorious rays,
But, hark! the vesper-call to prayer,

As slow the orb of day-light sets,
Is rising sweetly on the air,

From Syria's thousand minarets!
The boy has started from the bed
Of flowers, where he had laid his head,
And down upon the fragrant sod

Kneels, with his forehead to the south,
Lisping the Eternal name of God

From purity's own cherub mouth,
And looking, while his hands and eyes
Are lifted to the glowing skies,
Like a stray babe of Paradise,
Just lighted on that flowery plain,
And seeking for its home again!
Oh, 'twas a sight—that Heav'n—that Child
A scene, which might have well beguil'd
· Ev'n haughty Ellis of a sigh
For glories past, and peace gone by!
And how felt he, the wretched man,
Reclining there-while memory ran
O’er many a year of guilt and strife,
Flew o'er the dark flood of his life,
Nor found one sunny resting place,
Nor brought him back one branch of grace!
“There was a time,” he said, in mild
Heart-humbled tonese" thou blessed child!
When young and haply pure as thou,

I looked and prayed like thee-but now
He hung his head-each nobler aim,

And hope, and feeling, which had slept
From boy hood's hour, that instant came

Fresh o'er him, and he wept-he wept!" The Peri carries a tear of penitence to Paradise-the gates untold and the angel welcomes her into eternal bliss.

We think this Poem, on the whole, the most beautiful and characteristic of all Mr. Moore's compositions. Though wild and fanciful, it everywhere makes an appeal to the heart; and we can allow the flight of a Peri to be described with more gorgeous and brilliant colouring than the real or imaginary travels of an ordinary mortal. Accordingly the ornamental and descriptive parts, though long and protracted, never weary, and we willingly resign ourselves up to a delightful dream. It might not perhaps have been in Mr. Moore's power to have opened the gate of the dungeon-soul of guilt, and brought into our ears all the terrible sounds that disturb its haunted darkness. He has followed a safer course, and confined himself rather to the outward signs of remorse than its inward agonies. There is therefore nothing in this tale that can entitle Mr. Moore to be classed with those Poets who have penetrated into the deepest and darkest recesses of the soul; but there is much in it to render him worthy of taking his place among the best of those whose genius has breathed a new beauty over innocence and virtue.

We shall give our readers an account in our next Number, of the two remaining poems, the • Fire Worshippers,' and the Light of the Haram.' We may perhaps then speak a little more at length of Mr. Moore's faults, which we indistinctly feel to be numerous, and blended, we fear incurable, with his merits. But we wished, at present to give those of our readers who have not seen the volume an idea of its general character; and this we hope, we have done more effectually by the means now pursued, than if we had indul. ged ourselves in minute and captious criticism.

ART. VII.-France, by Lady Morgan. PROM this very amusing book we make the following extracts,

for the entertainment of our readers. Lady Morgan does not pretend to be a politician nor a philosopher, but leaving questions of national policy and statistics to be discussed by masculine authors, and confining her attention to characteristics of manners and taste, she has produced the most interesting volume which has yet appeared on the subject of modern France.

We found general La Fayette surrounded by his patriarchal family;-his excellent son and daughter-in-law, his two daughters (the sharers of his dungeon in Olmutz) and their husbands; eleven grand-children, and a venerable grand-uncle, the ex-grand prior of Malta, with hair as white as snow, and his cross and his order worn as proudly as when he had issued forth at the head of his pious troops, against the paynim foe,' or Christian enemy. Such was the group that received us in the salon of La Grange; such was the close-knit circle that made our breakfast

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and our dinner party; accompanied us in our delightful rambles through the grounds and woods of La Grange, and constantly presented the most perfect unity of family interests, habits, taste, and affections.

We naturally expect to find strong traces of time in the form of those, with whose name and deeds we have been long acquainted; of those who had obtained the suffrages of the world, almost before we had entered it. But, on the person of La Fayette, time has left no impression; not a wrinkle furrows the ample brow; and his unbent, and noble figure, is still as upright, bold, and vigorous, as the mind that informs it. Grace, strength, and dignity still distinguish the fine person of this extraordinary man; who though more than forty years before the world, engaged in scenes of strange and eventful confici, does not yet appear to have reached his climacteric. Bustling and active in his farm, grace. ful and elegant in his salon, it is difficult to trace, in one of the most successful agriculturists, and one of the most perfect fine gentlemen that France has produced, a warrior and a legislator. The patriot, however, is always discernible.

In the full possession of every faculty and talent he ever possessed, the memory of M. La Fayette has all the tenacity of unworn youthful recollection; and, besides these, high views of all that is most elevated in the mind's conception. His conversation is brilliantly enriched with anecdotes of all that is celebrated, in character and event, for the last fifty years. He still talks with unwearied delight, of his short visit to England, to his friend Mr. Fox, and dwelt on the witchery of the late dutchess of Devonshire, with almost boyish enthusiasm. He speaks and writes English with the same elegance he does his native tongue. He has made himself master of all that is best worth knowing, in English literature and philosophy. I observed that his library contained many of our most eminent authors upon all subjects. His elegant, and well chosen collection of books, occupies the highest apartments in one of the towers of the château; and, like the study of Montaigne, hangs over the farm-yard of the philosophical agriculturist. It frequently happens,' said M. La Fayette, as we were looking out of the window at some flocks which were moving beneath, it frequently happens that my merinos, and my hay carts, dispute my attention with your Hume, or our own Voltaire.

He spoke with great pleasure on the visit paid him at La Grange some years ago by Mr. Fox and general Fitzpatrick. He took me out, the morning after my arrival, to show me a tower, richly covered with ivy: It was Fox,' he said, who planted that ivy! I have taught my grand-children to venerate it.'

The château La Grange does not, however, want other points of interest.*-Founded by Louis Le Gros, and occupied by the princes of Lorraine, the mark of a cannon ball is still visible in one of its towers, which penetrated the masonry, when attacked by marechal Turenne. Here, in the plain, but spacious salon-a-manger, [eating-room], the pea. santry of the neighbourhood, and the domestics of the castle, assemble every Sunday evening in winter, to dance to the violin of the concierge, [porter], and are regaled with cakes, and eau-sucrée. The general is

* The château and territory of La Grange Blessnau, belonged to the Noailles' family, and came into M. La Fayette's hands, in right of madame La Fayette.

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usually, and his family are always, present at these rustic balls. The young people occasionally dance among the tenantry, and set the examples of new steps, freshly imported by their Paris dancing-master.

At the cháteau 'D'Orsonville, the seat of the marquis and marchioness de Collsert Chabanais, I observed great attention was paid to procuring innocent recreation for their tenantry and peasantry. In the lawn before the castle windows there was a “jeu de bague,'(a sort of merry goround), a swing, a spot cleared for them to dance on, and many little sources of amusement, invented and multiplied, to preserve them from the temptation of the village tavern. On Sundays they crowded on the lawn with a confidence in their welcome, that was quite delightful. In the good old times, when the 'manie de bergerie' (pastoral mania peopled the grounds of the château, for a few weeks in the summer, with shepherds à toupet frisé, [with frizzed toupées], and shepherdesses in court-hoops, (the originals of the figures which ornament chimneypieces in Sevres china, and biscuit), it was the fashion to talk in raptures of the country, but to stipulate, at the same time, in the marriage articles, that it should only be visited for a certain period in the year. Then, as now, the peasants were occasionally invited to rural festivities on thc box-lined lawns of the château, but a cance, à la ronde, was liable to be interrupted by its members being sent to the gallies, for some recent violation of the droits de chasse, [game laws], and the gay candidates for the jeu de bague' to be dispatched, á l'impromptu, to fulfil the duties of the corvée, in some distant district. There were then no rights, no securities for the people, and there could be no confidence, and but little enjoyment.

In the summer, this patriarchal re-union takes place in the park, where a space is cleared for the purpose, shaded by the lofty trees which encircle it. A thousand times, in contemplating La Fayette, in the midst of this charming family, the last years of the life of the chancellor de l’Hopital recurred to me,,he, whom the naïve Brantome likens to Cato; and who, loving liberty as he hated faction, retired from a court unworthy of his virtues, to his little domain of Vignay, which he cultivated himself. There, surrounded by bis wife and children, nine grand-children, and a number of faithful servants, grown gray in his service, he describes his life in the following simple and natural manner: Je vis comme Laërte, cultivant mes champs, et ne regrettant rien de ce que j'ai laissé. Je voudrais plus cette retraite, qui satisfait mon coeur et flatte également ma vanité; j'aime à me representer, à la suite de ces fameux exiles d'Athénes et de Rome, que leur vertu avait rendu redoutables à leurs concitoyens. Je vis au milieu d'une famille nombreuse que j'aime; je lis, et ecris, je médite, je prends plaisir aux jeux de mes petits enfans; leurs occupations les plus simples m'intéressent. Enfin tous mes momens sont remplis, et rien ne manquerait à mon bonheur, sans ce voisinage affreux, qui vient quelquefois porter le trouble et la désolation dans mon cœur.' (I live like Lærtes, cultivating my fields, and regretting nothing that I have left behind me. This retirement satisfies both my heart and my vanity; I compare myself to those famous exiles of Athens and of Rome, whom their virtue hád rendered formidable to their fellow citizens.--I see myself in the midst of a numerous family, whom I love. I read, I write, I meditate, I take pleasure even in the sports of my grand-children; their most simple oc

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cupations interest me.--In short, every moment of my time is filled up; and nothing would be wanting to my happiness, were it not for this dreadful neighbourhood, which sometimes brings trouble and desolation to my heart.] This letter of de l'Hopital, might form the journal of La Fayette, in all its details and spirit.

In accompanying this last of the Romans' through his extensive farms, visiting his sheep-folds, his cow-stalls, his dairies, (of all of which he was justly proud, and occasionally asking me, whether it was not something in the English style), I was struck with his gracious manner to the peasantry, and to the workmen engaged in the various rustic offices of his domains. He almost always addressed them with mon ami,' - my friend), mon bon ami,'-[my good friend), mon cher garçon;'

[my dear boy]; while ma bonne mére,'[my good mother], and ma chére fille' (my dear girl] were invited to display the delicacies of the cream-pans and cheese-presses, or to parade their turkeys and ducklings for our observation and amusement. And this condescending kind. ness seems repaid by boundless affection, and respect amounting to yeneration. What was once the verger (orchard] of the château, where anciently the feudal seigneur regaled himself in the evening, with the officers of his household, and played chess with his chaplain, is now extended behind the castle, into a noble park, cut out of the luxuriant woods; the trees being so cleared away, and disposed of, as to sprinkle its green and velvet lawn with innumerable clumps of lofty oaks, and fantastic elms. This is rather English too,' said general La Fayette;

but it owes the greater part of its beauty to the taste of our celebrated landscape-painter, Robert, who assisted me in laying out the grounds, and disposing of my wood scenery.'

It was whilst walking by a bright moon-light, in these lovely grounds, that I have listened to their illustrious master, conversing upon almost every subject worthy to engage the mind of a great and good man; sometimes in French, sometimes in English; always with eloquence, Auency, and spirit.

Our mid-day ramble was of a less serious character; for, as the young people were let loose from their studies to accompany us, we issued forth a party of twenty strong. Upon these occasions the grand prior took a very distinguished part. He was evidently a popular leader upon such expeditions, and having given orders to a party to go in search of some peculiarly beautiful corn-flowers, which were destined to assist the dinner toilette, the veteran knight marshalled his divisions, and commanded the expedition with an earnestness and a gravity, which very evidently showed him as much interested in this predatory warfare upon blooms and odours, as his well-disciplined little troops. Some error, however, in their evolutions, just as the word of command was given, struck the general La Fayette himself, who commanded a halt, and -suggested the experience of his counsel to the science of the Maltese tactics. It was curious to observe the representative of the Grand Masters of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, and the general-commandant of the national army of France, mancuvring this little rifle corps, and turning powers that had once their influence over the fate of Europe, against corn-flowers and May-sweets.

I was desirous to learn how Bonaparte seemed affected at the moment that general La Fayette, at the head of the deputation who came

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VOL, X.

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