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able a plan would instantly be taken The importance of attending to this up by every Scotchman; and that the subject will be obvious to every one whole European population would soon who has seen the new County Rooms follow.

of this city. This building is copied It has been said, that possibly the from the Eryctheum of Athens, and heads of the Courts, in whom the resembles it in all respects, except in power is vested by Act of Parliament, situation. The original being raised of putting a negative on the erection on the summit of the Acropolis, has a of any edifice on the Calton-Hill, bold and fine effect. Whereas the might object to the national monu- modern copy, though very skilfully ment being placed on that spot. But executed, being hemmed in and overthe well-known public spirit, and topped by lofty piles of masonry, has its enlightened views of the eminent in- beauty, if not quite destroyed, at least dividuals who fill these stations, se- essentially injured. Notwithstandcure us from this apprehension. They ing this unfortunate circumstance, would, in all probability, object, and however, we must ever feel grateful with reason, to the project of placing to the patriotic individual to whose a modern building, of doubtful sym- active public spirit we owe the intrometry, on that beautiful situation.- duction of this first model of Grecian But were the good taste of the public art. And it is most earnestly to be to decide upon transferring to this hoped, that, as he enjoys an uncommon country that exquisite structure which share of public esteem and confidence, still stands unrivalled by modern art, he will, upon this important occasion, there can surely be no doubt of obtain- lend the weight of his great influence ing permission to place it on the very towards the advancement of the naspot, which its original author would tional taste: and thus, in the most have chosen, as best calculated to a- legitimate way, establish his title to dorn the city, at once to display its that extensive popularity which, on a own peculiar excellencies, and to ren- recent occasion, raised him to one of der it, what such a monument ought the highest situations in this country, undoubtedly to be proudly and emi

R. nently conspicuous.

REMARKS ON DON JUAN.

It has not been without much reflec- ment to be inflicted by us, or by any tion and overcoming many reluctan- one, on a production, whose corrupcies, that we have at last resolved to tions have been so effectually embalmsay a few words more to our readers ed—which, in spite of all that crities concerning this very extraordinary can do or refrain from doing, nothing poem. The nature and causes of our can possibly prevent from taking a difficulties will be easily understood high place in the literature of our counby those of them who have read any try, and remaining to all ages a per. part of Don Juan—but we despair of petual monument of the exalted intelstanding justified as to the conclusion lect, and the depraved heart, of one of at which we have arrived, in the opi- the most remarkable men to whom nion of any but those who have read that country has had the honour and and understood the whole of a work, the disgrace of giving birth. in the composition of which there is That Lord Byron has never writunquestionably a more thorough and ten any thing more decisively and triintense infusion of genius and vice- umphantly expressive of the greatness power and profligacy-than in any poem of his genius, will be allowed by all which had ever before been written in who have read this poem. That (layer' the English, or indeed in any other ing all its manifold and grievous ofmodern language. Had the wickedness fences for a moment out of our view) been less inextricably mingled with it is by far the most admirable specithe beauty and the grace, and the men of the mixture of ease, strength, strength of a most inimitable and incom- gayety, and seriousness extant in the prehensible muse, our task would have whole body of English poetry, is a been easy: But silence would be a proposition to which, we are almost as very poor and a very useless chastise- well persuaded, very few of them will

refuse their assent. With sorrow and most phantastic transgressions of heart humiliation do we speak it—the poet and mind, is the part of a conscious has devoted his powers to the worst of sinner, in whom sin has not become purposes and passions; and it increases the sole principle of life and actionhis guilt and our sorrow, that he has of a soul for which there is yet hope. devoted them entire. What the im- But to lay bare to the eye of man and of mediate effect of the poem may be on woman all the hidden convulsions of contemporary literature, we cannot a wicked spirit—thoughts too abopretend to guess——too happy could we minable, we would hope, to have been hope that its lessons of boldness and imagined by any but him that has exvigour in language, and versification, pressed them and to do all this withand conception, might be attended to, out one symptom of pain, contrition, as they deserve to be--without any remorse, or hesitation, with a calm carestain being suffered to fall on the pu- less ferociousness of contented and satisrity of those who minister to the ge- fied depravity-this was an insult which neral shape and culture of the public no wicked man of genius had ever bemind, from the mischievous insults fore dared to put upon his Creator or his against all good principle and all good Species. This highest of all possible exfeeling, which have been unworthily hibitions of self-abandonment has been embodied in so many elements of fase set forth in mirth and gladness, by one cination.

whose name was once pronounced with The moral strain of the whole poem pride and veneration by every English is pitched in the lowest key-and if voice. This atrocious consummation the genius of the author lifts him now was reserved for Byron. and then out of his pollution, it seems It has long been sufficiently manias if he regretted the elevation, and fest, that this man is devoid of relimade all haste to descend again. To gion. At times, indeed, the power particularize the offences committed in and presence of the Deity, as speaking its pages would be worse than vain- in the sterner workings of the elements, because the great genius of the man seems to force some momentary conseems to have been throughout exert- sciousness of their existence into his laed to its utmost strength, in devising bouring breast;-a spirit in which there every possible method of pouring scorn breathes so much of the divine, canupon every element of good or noble not always resist the majesty of its nature in the hearts of his readers. Maker. But of true religion terror is Love-honour-patriotism-religion, a small part—and of all religion, that are mentioned only to be scoffed founded on mere terror, is the least at and derided, as if their sole rest- worthy of such a man as Byron. We ing-place were, or ought to be, in may look in vain through all his works the bosoms of fools. It appears, in for the slightest evidence that his soul short, as if this miserable man, having had ever listened to the gentle voice of exhausted every species of sensual gra- the oracles. His understanding has tification-having drained the cup of been subdued into conviction by some sin even to its bitterest dregs, were passing cloud ; but his heart has never resolved to shew us that he is no longer been touched. He has never writa human being, even in his frailties; ten one line that savours of the spibut a cool unconcerned fiend, laugh- rit of meekness. His faith is but ing with a detestable glee over the for a moment," he believes and whole of the better and worse elements trembles," and relapses again into of which human life is composed his gloom of unbelief—a gloom in treating well nigh with equal derision which he is at least as devoid of the most pure of virtues, and the most Hope and Charity as he is of odious of vices-dead alike to the Faith.-The same proud hardness of beauty of the one, and the deformity heart which makes the author of Don of the other-a mere heartless despis- Juan a despiser of the Faith for which er of that frail but noble humanity, his fathers bled, has rendered him a whose type was never exhibited in a scorner of the better part of woman ; shape of more deplorable degradation and therefore it is that his love poetry than in his own contemptuously disc is a continual insult to the beauty tinct delineation of himself. To con- that inspires it. The earthy part of fess in secret to his Maker, and weep the passion is all that has found . over in secret agonie's the wildest and resting place within his breast

idol is all of clay—and he dashes her of delicacy and virtue, as he admitted to pieces almost in the moment of his Lady Byron to be, who would not have worship. Impiously railing against hoped all things and suffered all things his God-madly and meanly disloyal from one, her love of whom must have to his Sovereign and his country, -and been inwoven with so many exalting brutally outraging all the best feel-, elements of delicious pride, and more ings of female honour, affection, delicious humility. To offend the love and confidence-How small a part of of such a woman was wrong, but it chivalry is that which remains to the might be forgiven ; to desert her was descendant of the Byronsma gloomy unmanly--but he might have returned vizor, and a deadly weapon !

and wiped for ever from her eyes the Of these offences, however, or of tears of her desertion ;--but to injure, such as these, Lord Byron had been and to desert, and then to turn back guilty abundantly before, and for such and wound her widowed privacy with he has before been rebuked in our unhallowed strains of cold blooded own, and in other more authoritative mockery-was brutally, fiendishly, inpages. There are other and newer expiably mean. For impurities there sins with which the author of Don might be some possibility of pardon, Juan has stained himself-sins of a were they supposed to spring only from class, if possible, even more despic- the reckless buoyancy of young blood able than any he had before commit- and fiery passions,-for impiety there ted ; and in regard to which it is mat- might at least be pity, were it visible ter of regret to us, that as yet our pe- that the misery of the impious soul riodical critics have not appeared to ex- were as great as its darkness ;- but for press themselves with any seemly mea- offences such as this, which cannot prosure of manly and candid indignation. ceed either from the madness of sudden

Those who are acquainted, (as who impulse, or the bewildered agonies is not?) with the main incidents in of self-perplexing and self-despairing the private life of Lord Byron ;-and doubt-but which speak the wilful who have not seen this production, and determined spite of an unrepent(and we are aware, that very few of ing, unsoftened, smiling, sarcastic, joy. our Northern readers have seen it) ous sinner-for such diabolical, such will scarcely believe, that the odious slavish vice, there can be neither pity malignity of this man's bosom should nor pardon. Our knowledge that it is have carried him so far, as to make committed by one of the most powerhim commence a filthy and impious ful intellects our island ever has propoem, with an elaborate satire on the duced, lends intensity a thousand character and manners of his wife fold to the bitterness of our indignafrom whom, even by his own confes- tion. Every high thought that was ever sion, he has been separated only in kindled in our breasts by the muse of consequence of his own cruel and heart- Byron-every pure and lofty feeling less misconduct. It is in vain for Lord that ever responded from within us Byron to attempt in any way to justify to the sweep of his majestic inspir. his own behaviour in that affair ; and, ations

every remembered moment of now that he has so openly and auda- admiration and enthusiasm is up in ciously invited inquiry and reproach, arms against him. We look back with we do not see any good reason why he a mixture of wrath and scorn to the should not be plainly told so by the delight with which we suffered our. general voice of his countrymen. It selves to be filled by one who, all the would not be an easy matter to per- while he was furnishing us with des suade any Man who has any knowledge light, must, we cannot doubt it, have of the nature of Woman, that a female been mocking us with a cruel mocksuch as Lord Byron has himself de- ery-less cruel only, because less peo scribed his wife to be, would rashly, culiar, than that with which he has now or hastily, or lightly separate herself, turned him from the lurking-place of from the love which she had once been his selfish and polluted exile, to pour inspired for such a man as he is, or the pitiful chalice of his contumely on was. Had he not heaped insult upon the surrendered devotion of a virgininsult, and scorn upon scorn-had he bosom, and the holy

hopes of the mo not forced the iron of his contempt ther of his child. "The consciousness into her very soul-there is no woman of the insulting deceit which has been

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practised upon us, mingles with the part of our readers. As it is out of the nobler pain arising from the contem- question for us to think of analyzing plation of perverted and degraded ge- the story, we must quote at the haze nius to make us wish that no such ard of some of our quotations being being as Byron ever had existed. It very imperfectly understood. is indeed á sad and an humiliating “Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke, thing to know, that in the same year Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel,

Howe, there proceeded from the same pen two Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk, productions, in all things so different, And filled their sign-posts then, like Wellesley now;

Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk, as the Fourth Canto of Childe Harold Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow: and this loathsome Don Juan.

France, too, had Buonaparte and Dumourier,

Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier. Lady Byron, however, has one con

“ Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau, solation still remaining, and yet we fear Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette, she will think it but a poor one. She Were French, and famous peuple, as we know; shares the scornful satire of her hus- Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Dessaix,

Moreau, band, not only with all that is good,

With many of the military set, and pure, and high, in human nature, Exceedingly

remarkable at times,

But not at all adapted to my rhymes. its principles and its feelings; but

“ Nelson was once Britannia's god of war, with every individual also, in whose And still should be so, but the tide is túmed; character the predominance of these There's no more to be said of Trafalgar, blessed elements has been sufficient to

'Tis with our hero quictly inurn'd;

Because the army's grown more popular, excite the envy, or exacerbate the de- At which the naval people are concern'd: spair of this guilty man. We shall Besides, the

Prince is all for the land-service,

Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis. not needlessly widen the wound by detailing its cruelty; we have mention- " Young Juan now was sixteen years of age,

Tall, handsome, slender, but well knit

he seem'd ed one, and, all will admit, the worst Active, though not so sprightly, as a page; instance of the private malignity which

And every body but his mother deem'd

Him almost man; but she flew in a rage, has been embodied in so many passa- And bit her lips (for else she might have scream'd), ges of Don Juan; and we are quite Was In her eyes a thing the most atrocious. sure, the lofty-minded and virtuous

" Amongst her numerous acquaintance, all men whom Lord Byron has debased

Selected for discretion and devotion, himself by insulting, will close the vo

There was the Donna Julia, whom to call

Pretty were but to give a feeble notion lume which contains their own inju- of many charms in her as natural ries, with no feelings save those of

As sweetness to the flower, or salt to ocean,

Her zona to Venus, or his bow to Cupid, pity for Him that has inflicted them, (But this last simile is trite and stupid.)? and for Her who partakes so largely in “ The darknoss of her oriental eye the same injuries; and whose hard Accorded with her Moorish origin: destiny has deprived her for ever of (Her blood was not all Spanish, by the by:

In Spain, you know, this is a sort of sin.) that proud and pure privilege, which When proud Grenada fell, and, forced to fly,

Boabdil wept, of Donna Julia's kin enables themselves to despise them. Some went to Africa, some staid in Spain, As to the rest of the world, we know

Her great great grandmamma chose to remain. not that Lord Byron could have in- "She married (I forget the pedigree) vented any more certain means of His blood less noble than such blood should be ; bringing down contempt inexpiable At such alltances his sires would frown,

In that point so precise in each degree on his own head, than by turning the

That they bred in and in, as might be shown, weapons of his spleen against men Marrying their cousins-nay, their aunts and nieces,

Which always spoils the breed, if it increases. whose virtues few indeed can equal,

" This heathenbh cross restored the breed again, but still fewer are so lost and unwor- Ruin'd its blood, but much improved its flesh; thy as not to love and admire. For, from a root the ugliest in Oid Spain

Sprung up a branch as beautiful as fresh; The mode in which we have now The sons no more were short, the daughters plain: expressed ourselves, might be a suf- But there's a rumour which I fain would hush,

"Tis said that Donna Julia's grandmamma ficient apology for making no extracts Produced her Don more heirs at love than law. from this poem itself. But our indig- “However this might be, the race went on nation, in regard to the morality of the Improving still through every generation,

Until'it center'd in an only son, poem, has not blinded us to its ma

Who left an only daughter; my narration nifold beauties; and we are the more

May have suggested that this single one

Could be but Julia (whom on this occasion willing to quote a few of the passages I shall have much to speak about), and she which can be read without a blush, Was married, charming, chaste, and twenty-three. - because the comparative rarity of such

“ Her eye (I'm very fond of handsome eyes)

Was large and dark, suppressing half its fire passages will, in all probability, operate Until she spoke, then through its sont disguise to the complete exclusion of the work Flash'd an expression more of pride than ire,

And love than either; and there would arise itself, from the libraries of the greater A something in thern which was not desire, VOL. V.

3 U

But would have been, perhaps, but for the soul And life yields nothing further to recall Which struggled through and chasten'd down the Worthy of this ambrosial sin, so shown, whole.

No doubt in fable, as the

unforgiven

Fire which Prometheus filch'd for us from heaven" " Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow

Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth; The conclusion of the history of this Her eyebrow's shape was like the aerial bow,

Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth, passion is, that Don Juan is detected Mounting, at times to a transparent glow, in the lady's chamber at midnight by

As if her veins ran lightning; she, in sooth, Possess'd an air and grace by no means common:

her husband. Thinking her lover efHer stature tall-1 hate a dumpy woman." fectually concealed, Donna Julia rates “And if she met him, though she smiled no more, her Lord in a style of volubility in

She look'd a sadness sweeter than her smile, which, it must be granted, there is As if her heart had deeper thoughts in store

She must not own, but cherishd more the while, abundance of the true vis comica, For that compression in its burning core;

The detection which follows almost Even innocence itself has many a wile, And will not da:e to trust itself with truth, immediately after the conclusion of And love is taught hypocrisy from youth.

the speech, gives much additional ab" But passion most dissembles yet betrays

surdity to the amazing confidence of Even by its darkness; as the blackest sky Foretells the heaviest tempest, it displays

the lady. Its workings through the vainly guarded eye,

" During this inquisition Julia's tongue And in whatever aspect it arrays

Was not asleep Yes, scarch and search, sbe Itself, 'tis still the same hypocrisy;

cried, Coldness or anger, even disdain or hate,

• Insult on insult heap, and wrong on wrong! Are masks it often wears, and still too late.

It was for this that I became a bride! “Then there were sighs, the deeper for suppression, For this in silence I have suffer'd long And stolen glances, sweeter for the theft,

A husband like Alfonso at my side;
And burning blushes, though for no transgression, But now I'll bear no more, nor here remain,
Tremblings when met, and restlessness when

If there be law, or lawyers, in all Spain.
left."

"1 Yes, Don Alfonso ! husband now no more, Speaking of moonlight, he says:

If ever you indeed deserved the name, " There is a dangerous silence in that hour, Is't worthy of your years ?-you have threescore, A stillness, which leaves room for the full soul

Fifty, or sixty-it is all the same To open all itself, without the power

Is't wise or fitting causeless to explore Of calling wholly back its self-control;

For facts against a virtuous woman's fame? The silver light which, hallowing tree and tower,

Ungrateful, perjured, barbarous Don Alfonso, Sheds beauty and deep softness o'er the whole, How dare you think your lady would go on se? Breathes also to the heart, and o'er it throws A loving languor, which is not reposc."

"Is it for this I have disdaind to hold

The common privileges of my sex? “ Tis sweet to hear

That I have chosen a confessor so old At midnight on the blue and moonlit deep

And deaf, that any other it would vex, The song and oar of Adria's gondolier,

And never once he has had cause to scold, By distanec mellow'd, o'er the waters sweep;

But found my very innocence perplex Tis sweet to see the evening star appear;

much, he always doubted I was married "Tis sweet to listen as the nightwinds creep

How sorry you will be when I've miscarried !
From leaf to leaf; 'tis sweet to view on high "Was it for this that no Cortejo ere
The rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky.

1 yet have chosen from out the youth of Seville ? " "Tis sweet to hear the watchdog's honest bark Is it for this I scarce went any where, Bay, deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near Except to bull-fights, mass, play, rout, and revel? home;

Is it for this, whate'er my suitors were, "Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark

I favour'd none-day, was almost uncivil? Our coming, and look brighter when we come; Is it for this that General Count O'Reilly, 'Tis sweet to be awaken'd by the lark,

Who took Algiers, declares I used him vilely? Or lulld by falling waters; sweet the hum Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds,

"• Did not the Italian Musico Catani The lisp of children, and their earliest words.

Sing at my heart six months at least in vain?

Did not his countryman, Count Corniani, “ Sweet is the vintage, when the showering grapes Call me the only virtuous wife in Spain ? In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth

Were there not also Russians, English, many? Purple and gushing: sweet are our escapes

The Count Strongstroganoff I put in pain, From civic revelry to rural mirth;

And Lord Mount Coffeehouse, the Irish peer, Sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps,

Who kill'd himself for love (with wine) last year. Sweet to the father is his first-born's birth,

« • Have I not had two bishops at my feet? Sweet is revenge-especially to women,

The Duke of Ichar, and Don Fernan Nunez, Pillage to soldiers, prize-money to seamen.

And is it thus a faithful wife you treat? “ Sweet is a legacy, and passing sweet

I wonder in what quarter now the moon is: The unexpected death of some old lady

I praise your vast forbearance not to beat Or gentleman of seventy years complete,

Me also, since the time so opportune isWho've made “ us youth" wait too too long Oh, valiant man! with sword drawn and corks already

trigger, For an estate, or cash, or country-seat,

Now, tell me, don't you cut a pretty figure? Still breaking, but with stamina so steady, u Was it for this you took your sudden journey, That all the Israelites are fit to mob its Next owner for their double-darnn'd post-obits.

Under pretence of business indispensible

With that sublime of rascals your attorney, “ 'Tis sweet to win, no matter how, one's laurels Whom I see standing there, and looking sensible By blood or ink; 'tis sweet to put an end

of having play'd the fool ? though both I spum, he To strife: 'tis sometimes sweet to have our quarrels, Deserves the worst, his conduct's less defensible, Particularly with a tiresome friend;

Because, no doubt, 'twas for his dirty fee, Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels;

And not from any love to you nor me. Dear is the helpless creature we defend

"If he comes here to take a deposition, Against the world; and dear the schoolboy spot

By all means let the gentleinan padceed: We ne'er forget, though there we are forgot.

You've made the apartment in a fit condition:" But sweeter still than this, than these, than all, There's pen and ink for you, sir, when you need

Is first and passionate love-it stands alone, Let every thing be noted with precision, Like Adam's recollection of his fall ;

I would not you for nothing should be feedThe tree of knowledge has been pluck'd-all's But, as my maid's undrest, pray turn your spies out." known

"Oh! sobod Antonia, 'I could tear their eyes cat."

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