'When she saw the letters of divorcement,
Kisses on her young boy's forehead, kisses
On her girl's red cheeks she press'd-the nursling--
For there was a nursling in the cradle-

Could she tear her, wretched, from her infant?
But her brother seized her hand, and led her-
Led her swiftly to the agile courser;

And he hasten'd with the sorrowing woman
To the ancient dwelling of her fathers.

Short the time was not seven days had glided—
Short indeed the time-and many a noble
Had our lady-though in widow's garments-
Had our lady ask'd in holy marriage.

' And the noblest was Imoski's Cadi;

And our lady, weeping, pray'd her brother: "I exhort thee, on thy life exhort thee, Give me not, oh, give me not in marriage! For the sight of my poor orphan'd children Sure would break the spirit of thy sister!" 'Little cared her brother for her sorrows; He had sworn she should espouse the Cadi, But his sister pray'd him thus unceasing: "Send at least one letter, O my brother! With this language to Imoski's Cadi;

'Friendly greetings speeds the youthful woman; But entreats thee, by these words entreats thee, When the Suates* shall conduct thee hither, Thou a long and flowing veil wilt bring me, That, in passing Hassan's lonely dwelling, I may hide me from my hapless orphans.' 'Hardly had the Cadi read the letter,

Than he gather'd his Suates together,

Arm'd himself, and hasten'd t'wards the lady,

Home to bring her as his bridal treasure.

Happily he reach'd the princely dwelling,

Happily were all returning homeward,

When toward Hassan's house they were approaching,
Her two daughters saw her from the window,

Her two sons rush'd on her from the portal:

And they cried," Come hither! O come hither!

Take thy night's repast with thine own children!"

Sorrowfully Hassan's consort heard them ;

To the Sarisvat she thus address'd her:
"Let the Suates stay, and let the horses
Tarry here at this beloved portal,
While I make a present to the children."

* Conductors of the marriage festival.'

'As they stopp'd at the beloved portal,
Presents gave she unto all the children.
To the boys, boots all with gold embroider'd ;
To the girls, long and resplendent dresses;
And to the poor baby in the cradle,
For the time to come, a little garment.
Near them sat their father, Hassan Aga,
And he call'd in sorrow to his children:
"Come to me, poor children! to your father;
For your mother's breast is turned to iron,
Closed against you, harden'd 'gainst all pity."
When these words were heard by Hassan's consort,
On the ground she fell, all pale and trembling,

Till her spirit burst her heavy bosom

At the glances of her orphan children.'-pp. 52-57.

To the ballads Mr. Bowring has added translations of several lyrics, songs, and occasional poems,' of which the reader may perhaps desire to see some specimens. We have already seen Göthe's opinion of the Servian amatory poems; and most persons will perhaps agree, that if many of those productions were equal to the following Farewell,' they would deserve all the encomiums which he has lavished upon them.

'Against white Buda's walls, a vine
Doth its white branches fondly twine:
O, no! it was no vine-tree there;
It was a fond, a faithful pair,
Bound each to each in earliest vow-
And, O! they must be severed now!

And these their farewell words :-" We part-
Break from my bosom-break-my heart!

Go to a garden-go, and see,

Some rose-branch blushing on the tree;
And from that branch a rose-flower tear,
Then place it on thy bosom bare;
And as its leavelets fade and pine,
So fades my sinking heart in thine."
And thus the other spoke: "My love!
A few short paces backward move,
And to the verdant forest go;
There's a fresh water-fount below;
And in the fount a marble stone,

Which a gold cup reposes on;
And in the cup a ball of snow-
Love! take that ball of snow to rest

Upon thine heart within thy breast.

And as it melts unnoticed there,

So melts my heart in thine my dear !"'—pp. 112-114.

No images can be more tender, or more perfectly expressive, than the two which are here employed to signify the most ardent

reciprocity of affection. Göthe calls this a "wonderful" poem. We look in vain through the smaller pieces for any thing equal to it, but still there are a few which will bear transcribing. The following verses are entitled Kisses.'

'What's the time of night, my dear?

For

maiden said, my

"I'll come

Said "I'll come," but is not here:
And 'tis now the midnight's gloom.
Lone and silent home I turn'd;
But upon the bridge I met her-

Kiss'd her :-How my hot lips burned !—
How forget it-how forget her!

In one kiss full ten I drew :
And upon my lips there grew,
From that hour, a honey dew,
As if sugar were my meat,

And my drink metheglin sweet.'-p. 119.

A little piece called 'Wishes,' will form a suitable accompaniment

to this:

"O that I were a little stream,

That I might flow to him-to him!

How should I dance with joy, when knowing
To whom my sparkling wave was flowing!
Beneath his window would I glide,
And linger there till morning-tide; <
When first he rouses him to dress
In comely garb his manliness,-
Then should he weak, or thirsty be,
O he might stoop to drink of me!
Or baring there his bosom, lave
That bosom in my rippling wave.
O what a bliss, if I could bear

The cooling power of quiet there!'-p. 163.

One example more, and we have done it is entitled Maiden's Affection.'

""Black is the night-an outcast lad

Is wandering in our village, mother!
Thy daughter's heart is very sad,
Sad even to death! He has no home:
O give him ours, he has no other,
And bid the lad no longer roam !"
Nay! daughter, let this outcast stray,
He is a proud and city youth;
Will ask for wine at break of day,
And costly meats at eve, forsooth,

And for his city-tutor'd head
Will want a soft and stately bed."
"O mother! In God's name divine,
Give the poor lad a shelternow:

My eyes shall serve instead of wine,
For costly meats my maiden brow.
My neck shall be his honey-comb:
His bed the dewy grass shall be,
And heaven his stately canopy.
His head shall rest upon my arm.
O mother! give the youth a home,

And shelter, shelter him from harm."-pp. 229, 230.

It is manifest from the beautiful images, and the simple, yet ardent conceptions, which are found in the poems we have extracted, that they are, for the most part, susceptible of better translations than those of Mr. Bowring. Some of these, however, are by no means devoid of merit; and in the whole collection, such as it is, we recognise an interesting accession to our literature. We feel really grateful to that gentleman for making us acquainted with so many poetic treasures, which have been hitherto buried in a language little, if at all, cultivated in this country.

ART. VIII. The Life of Edward Jenner, M.D., L.L.D., F.R.S., Physician Extraordinary to the King, &c. &c., with Illustrations of his Doctrines, and Selections from his Correspondence. By John Baron, M.D., F.R.S. 1 vol. 8vo. pp. 624. London: Henry Colburn.

1827.

THE immense practical benefit to his fellow-creatures, of which Jenner was the instrument, and the universal application of this benefit, place that fortunate man in the very highest rank of human benefactors. Untired by fatigue, undismayed by neglect or teasing opposition-sacrificing pecuniary interest, and pleasing repose-putting his character, (often the only capital of professional men), in jeopardy, he succeeded, after amazing perseverance, in working out a simple and safe plan of protection, against one of the most deadly and frightful distempers that ever afflicted mankind.

Jenner was, besides, a man of the greatest personal worthkind, amiable, and even-tempered-he was fond of society, and was engaging enough to be courted by it. He was modest as he was deserving: when honours from the most remote countries flowed in upon him, and princes sought his acquaintance as an addition to their dignity, he was never known to depart from the simple and even humble demeanour of the provincial practitioner. Retirement had sovereign charms for the heart of Jenner in his native vale in Gloucestershire he cultivated with enthusiasm the study of natural history, the pursuit of his early predilection, and varied the amusements of his leisure by soft dalliance with the muses. A specimen of the pleasant trifling of such a mind as Jenner's, cannot fail to be received with interest.

'ADDRESS TO A ROBIN.

'Come, sweetest of the feathered throng!
And soothe me with thy plaintive song:
Come to my cot, devoid of fear,
No danger shall await thee here:
No prowling cat, with whiskered face,
Approaches this sequestered place :
No school boy with his willow bow
Shall aim at thee a murderous blow:
No wily limed twig ere molest
Thy olive wing or crimson breast:
Thy cup, sweet bird! I'll daily fill
At yonder cressy, bubbling rill;
My board shall plenteously be spread
With crumblets of the nicest bread;
And when rude winter comes and shews
His icicles and shivering snows,
Hop o'er my cheering hearth, and be
One of my peaceful family;

Then soothe me with thy plaintive song,

Thou sweetest of the feathered throng!'

The mind of the doctor was delicately strung. A disappointment in love severely tried its fortitude: the duration of his pangs shewed the excess of his sensibility. Years after the distressful stroke,' he writes in this pathetic strain:-'I am jaded almost to death, my dear Gardner, by constant fatigue; that of the body I must endure but how long I shall be able to bear that of the mind I know not. Still the same dead weight hangs upon my heart. Would to God it would drag it from its unhappy mansion! then with what pleasure could I see an end of this silly dream of life. In the same year, which might be about the 34th of Jenner's life, he addresses his friend in the like desponding tone, 'As for myself, the same stream of unhappiness is still flowing in upon me, its source seems inexhaustible; but there is a soothing consolation in it, all little disquietudes are sunk or washed away. I feel their influence no more. Jenner's constancy to the old idol lasted until a fresh beauty came on the scene; the cup of matrimony was placed before him-he quaffed eagerly, and found in the contents a lethean preservative against the unpleasantness of all sentimental reminiscences. But whatever be his claims to our esteem for these personal qualities, it is as the great discoverer of vaccination that Jenner will be known, and his name handed down to posterity with lasting admiration. To strike even with but little success at the pestilential domination of the small pox was, in itself, an enterprise worthy of profound science and the most exalted humanity.

The accounts which are left us of the ravages of that malady amongst our almost immediate ancestors, are scarcely to be believed in our day. It is to Jenner that our gratitude is due, if