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production the title of the Atheist, and this tice, but are judged by government itself, difficulty we cannot explain, for we do not that is to say, by the King's privy council. linow it ourselves, unless it be because Ter. The enormous abuses caused by such a ville says now and then that he is an atheist, custom are not to be calculated, and howand does not believe in God. We are of ever excellent the constitution be, however opinion that nothing is more dangerous in perfect the civil laws, there will in fact be moral writers than to go beyond the mark. no true liberty in France as long as the All atheists are not knaves and murderers. present system of administrative justice Such a tragedy. as this can therefore serve continues to be in force. The author of to reclaim no one. The author ought to the work before us proposes the establishhave attempted, on the contrary, to show ment of a special tribunal to judge all those that an atheist may sometimes be, according cases, which tribunal, however, is to be in. to the common way of the world, what is dependent of government. His reasonings called an honest man; but that religion are in most points just and clear. Many alone can make a virtuous man. Such a things might indeed be said against his conception was, however, quite beyond his system, but if we consider the manners and sphere of comprehension. For the rest, the customs of the French nation, we will pertheatrical composition, dialogue, and style, haps acknowledge that it is well adapted to are ridiculous, and below all criticism. those custonus.

Vojages Poetique, 87.- Poctical Rani. bles of Eugenius and Antonina. By Madame La Comtesse de Genlis. 1 Vol. in 12mo.

( Continued.) Eugenius and Antonina are a new mar

ODEON.-The third theatre in Paris is ried couple. The lady having passed her called the Odeon, from the Greek word childhood in the country, comes, shortly 'ndin, a Song, though never a single air is after her marriage, for the first time to sung in that theatre. The pieces performParis with Eugenius, wlio takes pleasure ed are the old French comedies, which the in showing her all the curiosities, not only French Theatre (Theatre Français) does of the city, but also of the environs. They not choose to make use of, and the new go to all the remarkable gardens and chá.

ones which the authors present themselves. teaux about Paris. Eugenius tells his The actors are generally very 'middling. young wife the history of all those places, Two good authors, however, consecrate and finds everywhere some poetry to quote their talents to the Odeon, Picard, the or anecdote to relate, to which' Antonina manager, and Duval. The first is unanswers in the same strain, so that they doubtedly the best comic author at premake together a very tedious and pedantic sent living ;

his comedies are witty, couple. This volume is one of the most entertaining, and give a faithful picture frivolous of Madame de Genlis's produc. of the manners of the times. His chief tions. Still we find in many places her fault is, that he writes too quickly, so that agreeable style and peculiar art of narrating. his scenes are rather sketched than finished, in the account of the rambles, she has in. and his pieces bear too great a resemblance terspersed some historical and fairy tales, to one another. It must be allowed, howmost of which are pretty and interesting. ever, that he alone at present possesses the The description of the fairy Turbulente in vis comica. M. Duval's best piece is called the first of these tales is particularly pleas. The Domestic Tyrant ; it gives a good ing. The morals and political sentiments idea of those men, frequently enough met are everywhere irreproachable.

with in the world, who are amiable and

friendly to strangers, but true tyrants in Du Conseil d'Etat, f:c.— The Council of the interior of their family. State considered as a Council und as a We mentioned in our last Survey, that Jurisdiction in our Constitutional Mo- this house, one of the finest in France, had narchy, a pamphlet in 8vo.

unfortunately been consumed by fire. The The greatest impediment which a con- shocking event took place on Good Friday. stitutional government has found until this Governinent seems to suspect a plot, and moment to its establishment in France, several people have been apprehended ; as consists in the numerous administrative yet we know, however, no farther particulaws independent of the civil oncs, and in lars. By an order of the King, issued a the way of proceeding in all administrative few days after that misfortune, the house is points. The chief objects contained under to be rebuilt as soon as possible ; and when this head are the following: 1. Contracts restored, the managers will have the liberty between government and private people. to perform the same tragedies and comedies 2. National property and emigration con- that are acted at the French Theatre. It tests. 3. Bye roads and rivers. 4. City is hoped, that by that means the actors of property. 5. Complaints of private people the latter house will lose a little of their against public officers. - 6. Interpretation nonchalance, and show themselves more inof the laws. None of these points are left terested in the pleasures of the public, than to the decision of the usual courts of jus, when they enjoyed an exclusive privilege.

The following are the new comedies per. sequence to have any interest for foreigt. formed at the Odeon in the first three ers. They consist of, months of this year.

1. The Italian Opera ; middling, and January 23d. Agar and Ismaël, one

not much frequented. ut in verse.

2. The Vaudeville.

3. The Théatre des Varietés. This piece is a single scene, with two dramatis persone in a desert. It contains, tertainments, but the songs are adaptat

In those two are performed musical enconsequently, neither characters por plot. to popular tunes, and not composed ca It is written in high flown verse by M. Le- purpose for the piece. Among the actors mercier.

of the Théatre des Varietés there are some February 7th. The Fashionable Ball, who possess remarkable talents. a comedy in one act.

4. The Theatre de la Gaité. In the balls given by the fashionable so

5. The Theatre de l'Ambigu Comique cieties in Paris, a custom has been lately

6. The Theatre de la Porte, St Martin. introduced of calling in bankers of the pub.

These three are adapted to melo dramas, lic gaming-houses, to hold a bank in a se. pantomimes, and ballets. The latter is : parate room. This comedy is meant as a cen- very elegant house. It was built in 1784, sure upon a custom so very prejudicial to after the great fire of the Grand Opera morals. It contains a few good scenes, but The actors performed in it six weeks after is totally destitute of action and character. the first stone was laid. Comic OPERA.This is one of the

7. The Circus of Franconi. most pleasing theatres for foreigners. The

In all eleven theatres, which are open actors perform comic

operas and entertain every night the whole year through, except ments in French. Here is to be found the French and Italian Opera, which only good music, an excellent orchestra, and perform three times a week some first rate singers, particularly among the women.

Necrological Notice of Literary Charac. January. Brother Philip's Geese, a co

ters. January to March 1818. mic opera in one act. A well known tale of Boccaccio has fur- died in Paris 18th January 1818 Has

J. Delatynna, born in Switzerland 1765, nished the subject of this small piece. A man, after the death of his wife, becomes published several commercial and topogra

phical tracts. disgusted with the world, and retires to an hermitage, where he educates his son in a 1818. Has published, 1. Some new edi


Mersan, died in Paris 20th January total ignorance of the existence of another tions of French Moralities, with notes and

One day, however, while the father preface ; 2. Several articles in the Univer: and son are walking together, they meet sal Biography, a much esteemed work. some young and handsome girls. The youngster asks what sort of animals they sth February 1818, aged 20 years Has

G. F. Fournier de Pescay, died in Paris are? “ Birds," answers the father, “ a sort

published a much esteemed eulogium of of gecse."—“ Sure they are very pretty,' says the son, “ let us bring them home, versal Biography.

St Jerome, and several articles in the Uni. I shall take care to feed them." Such is the subject of this opera ; it is pretty and

Regnault, died in Paris 5th January

1818, aged 62. Has published several entertaining

grammatical works. February 10th. The Night in the T. Vernier, Count of Mont Orient, Peer Wood.

of France, died in Paris 4th February 1818, This piece has been so ill received by the aged 84. Has published a great number audience, that we are unable to give any of moral works, and some on ru al subaccount of it.

jects. His most celebrated publication is 27th. The Magic Girdle, in one act. called The Physical and Moral Character

Authors who have not wit enough to of the Passions, with the means to conduct invent subjects of their own, take ready and direct them, and make them useful to made pieces of others, which not having men, sociсty, and country. 2 Vols, ir 8vo. been performed for many years, are nearly Ennius Quirinus Visconti, M.A. born forgotten by the audience. This is the at Rome, died in Paris 7th February. case with the Magic Girdle. It is one of the Has published a considerable number of most médiocre comedies of J. B. Rousseau, works upon painting, sculpture, and antiwho, at best, had no great talent that way. quity. He was one of the publishers of The new author has alded a few rhymes, the Music of Messrs Robillard, Peronville, which another set to music. Neither the and Laurent, and one of the reviewers of one nor the other have met with any sort the Journal des Savans. M. Visconti has of success.

also furnished several articles for the Uni. We think it sufficient to give an account versal Biography, and the Encyclopedie of these four theatres, which are the prin. Magazine, the best literary publication is sipal ones. The rest are of too little con. France.




With foxes, destin'd soon to be : Reviving with the genial airs,

To sorrow and disaster wed, Beneath the azure heaven of spring,

A price on thy devoted head,

And blood-hounds tracking thee!
Thy stem of ancient vigour bears
Its branches green and blossoming ;

"Twas morn; but ere the solar ray The birds around thee hop and sing,

Shot burning from the west abroad, Or Ait, on glossy pinions borne,

The field was still ; the soldier lay Above thy time-resisting head,

Within a cold and lone abode; Whose umbrage overhangs the dead,

Beneath the turf on which he trod ; Thou venerable Thorn!

Beside the spot whereon he fell ; Three ages of mankind have pass'd

For ever severed from his kind,

And from the home he left behind, To silence and to sleep, since thou, Rearing thy branches to the blast,

His own paternal dell! As glorious, and more green than now,

Sheath'd in his glittering panoply, Sheltered, beneath thy shadowy brow,

Or wrapt in war-cloak, blood besprent, The warrior from the dews of night ;

Within one common cemetery, To doubtful sleep himself he laid,

The lofty and the low were pent : Enveloped in his tartan plaid,

No longer did the evening tent And dreaming of the fight.

Their mirth and wassail clamour hear ;

Ah! many a maid of ardent breast, Day opened in the orient sky

Shed for his sake, whom she lov'd best, With wintry aspect, dull and drear ; On every leaf, while glitteringly

The heart consuming tear ! The rimy hoar-frost did appear.

Thou lonely tree, survivest still The ocean was unseen, though near;

Thy bloom is white, thy leaf is green, And hazy shadows seem'd to draw,

I hear the tinkling of a rill, In azure, with their mimic floods,

All else is silent; and the scene, A line above the Seaton woods,

Where battle rag'd, is now serene And round North Berwick Law.

Beneath the purple fall of night ;

Yet, oft beside the plough appears Hark! 'twas the bagpipe that awoke

Casques, human bones, and broken Its tones of battle and alarms!

spears, The royal drum, with doubling stroke,

The relics of the fight !

M. In answer beat" to arms—to arms !".

If tumult and it war have charms,
Here might that bliss be sought and found :
The Saxon line unsheathe the sword,

And rush the Gael, with battle word,
Across the stubble ground.

The stars are out; the moon is bright, Alas! that British might should wield

Through depths of azure wading ; Destruction o'er a British plain,

The waters sparkle in its light, That hands, ordain'd to bear the shield,

Their banks the osiers shading : Should bring the poison’d lance, to drain A placid calm o’erhangs the scene ; The life blood from a brother's vein,

"Tis wildly sweet; and only

Were one but present, now, I ween,
And steep paternal fields in

It would not seem so lonely !
Yet, Preston, such thy fray began ;
Thy marsh-collected waters ran

She was the stat, whose glorious ray
Empurpled to the shore.

My journey did enlighten ; The noble Gardner, bold of soul,

No cloud obscured my mental day, Saw, spirit-sunk, his dastards flee, Whose gloom she did not brighten ; Disdain'd to let a fear control,

But, from the bird that ushers spring, And, striving by the side of thee, Her emblem we may borrow,

Fell like a champion of the free ! To-day, we hark, and hear it sing,
And Brymer, too, who scorn'd to yield,

And where is it to-morrow ?
Here took his death-blow undismay'd, Oh! why in such an hour as this,
And, sinking slowly downward, laid

Should thoughts so sad awaken !
His back upon the field.

Why was I doomed to dream of bliss, Descendant of a royal line

And thus to be forsaken! A race unfortunate and brave !

Sinice life no balsam can impart Success a moment seem'd to shine

To keep remembrance under ; On thee'twas sunbeams on a grave! The lengthened sigh that swells my heart, Thy home a hiding-place-a cave Shall burst its bands asunder.


4 D

gore !


But, placed upon my slender stem, 70 goôov 70 7ww.egwłwy.

The poison d stings she pluck'd from

them ; Lady, one who loves thee well,

And bone, since that eventful morn, Sent me here with thee to dwell.;

Has found the Flower without a Thorn. I bring with me thy lover's sigh, I come with thee to live and die ;

Yet, even the sorrows Love doth send, To live with thee,-belov'd, -carest,

But more divine enchantments lend : To die upon that gentle breast !

Still in Beauty's sweetest bowers

Blooms the Rose, the Queen of Flowers, Sweeter than the Myrtle wreath, Brightening with the sanguine stains, Of love and joy my blossoms breatheca Borrow'd from celestial veins, Love! whose name thy breast alarms, And breathing of the kiss she caught Yet who heightens all thy charms, From Love's own lips with rapture Who lends thy check its orient dies,

fraught ! Who triumphs in thy laughing eyes_'Twas from him I borrow'd, too,

SONNET. My sweet perfume,-my purple hue ;

Of love, and love's delight no more I sing, His fragrant breath my buds exhale, My bloom-Ah, lady! list my tale.

Nor praise Eliza's soft bewitching eye,

And sunny locks descending gracefully I was the Summer's fairest pride, O'er that fair bosom, like an angel's wing The Nightingale's betrothed bride ; Floating in light. Alas! the joyous string, In Shiraz' bowers I sprung to birth That breath'd responsive to love's blissful When Love first lighted on the earth, sigh, And then my pure inodorous blossom, IN suits the heart, where hope and fancy die

Blooming on its thornless tree, Like flowers untimely blighted in their Was snowy as his mother's bosom,

spring. Rising from the emerald sea.

Yet doth the memory of those gentle days Young Love, rambling through the In its fix'd sadness soothe my darken' wood,

mind, Found me in my solitude,

And tempt oft-times to meditate the lays Bright with dew and freshly blown, In hours of happiness for Her designed.And trembling to the Zephyr's sighs ;

Whose lovely image, neither fates unkind, But, as he stopt to gaze upon

Nor time, nor absence, from my breast can The living gem with raptured eyes, It chanced a Bee was busy there Searching for its fragrant fare ;

And Cupid stooping, too, to sip,

Part II. Sonnet 17.
The angry insect stung his lip,-
And, gushing from the ambrosial cell,

“ Ne mai pietosa madre al caro figlio," &e One bright drop on my bosom fell !

O ne'er did mother to her son most dear,

O ne'er did fond wife to her lored loni, Weeping, to his Mother he Told the tale of treachery ;

With sighs between each anxious look and

word, And she, her vengeful boy to please, Counsel so faithful give, in doubt and fear; Strung his bow with captive Becs, †

As she --who, from her bright eterna The loves of the Rose and Nightin

sphere, gale are a frequent theme among the Orien- Beholds me wandering through this world

abhorr'd ; tal poets.--" You may place a hundred handfuls of fragrant herbs and flowers be

While her heart vibrates to the accustomed fore the Nightingale, yet he wishes not, in

chord, his constant heart, for more than the sweet

And angel eyes, suffus'd in Pity's tear, breath of his beloved Rose."-Jami.

Express a mother's care, or chastely glow + Camdeo, or Ca’MA'DE'VA, the Hin. With more than wedded love-as she, tho doo Cupid, is represented as a beautiful high youth, sometimes conversing with his mo. In Heaven, directs me, in my course belor, ther and consort in the midst of his gar

What in Life's wilderness to seek or fly; dens and temples; sometimes riding by And only then, my heart has truee wich moonlight on a parrot or lory, &c. His bow of sugar.cane or flowers, with a string When, at her call, my spirit scales the sky! of Bces, and his five arrows, each pointed with an Indian blossom of a heating qua

Sonnet 18. lity, are allegories equally new and beau “ Se quell'aura soave de'sospir." tiful. Sir W. Jones.

O that sweet breath of sighs, how soft it Mr Southey has very finely availed himself of Camdeo's bow-string of living beesFrom her descending, while on Earth whoml in his poem of Xehama :-- See Vol. I. p. Lov'd only,--and who now, in that brigkat 108,





same :



Seems to me living, loving,--still the Who from thy glance could bear to part

Cold, and unmoved-without revealing Could prayers recall its sweetness, with some portion of the fond regret what flame

Which dimm'd my eye when last we met. Would they speed forth !-She hears me,

Sweet bud of Beauty !--mid the thrilland her eye

The anguished thrill of hope delayed In pity bends to me, intent to spy

Peril-and pain--and every ill My way, and guide me to my better aim !

That can the breast of man invade Right Heavenward she calls me on,-nor No tender thought of thine and thee

Hath faded from my memory! Mine ear drink in the mild sounds of her

But I have dwelt on each dear form voice,

Till woe awhile gave place to gladness; Whispering the prelude to eternal joys,

And that remembrance seem'd to charm, And my heart not enamoured of her plan, Where'er she leads me, there, too, fix its And now again I breathe a lay

Almost to peace, my bosom's sadness : choice!

To hail thee on thy natal day. O she could melt a rock,—not merely man!

Oh! might the fondest prayers prevail

For blessings on thy future years-Sonnet 26.

Or innocence like thine avail “Solea si nel mio cor star bella, e viva," &c.

To save thee from affliction's tears, Once in my heart, how beautiful she stood,

Each moment of thy life should bring A lofty statue in a lowly spot :

Some new delight upon its wing! Now she is gone, and I, alas ! am not

And the wild sparkle of thine eye, Mortal alone, but dead ;-she lives endued Thy guilelessness of soul revealingWith immortality !-Robbed of all good,

Beam ever thus as beauteously,

Undimm'd-save by those gems of feelingMy light of love quite quenched, gloomy blot

Those soft luxurious drops which flow A rock would melt in pity of my lot,

In pity for another's woe. If tongue or pen describe my sufferings But vain the thought !-it may not be ! could :

Could prayers avert misfortune's blight, My groans sound inward, where no ear can Or hearts, from sinful passions free, hear,

Here hope for unalloyed delight, Sound only to my heart, writhing in pain, Then those who guard thine opening bloom While sighs and broken cries choke up its Had never known an hour of gloom. door :

No ;-if the chastening stroke of Fate What ! what are we, but dust and shadows On guilty heads alone descended, drear;

Sure they would ne'er have felt its weight
What are our wishes all, but blind and vain; In whose pure bosoms, sweetly blended,
What are our hopes, but mockery? No. Life's dearest social virtues move,
thing more!

In one bright linkiess chain of love !
Then since upon this earth Joy's beams

. Are fading --frail, and few in number, TO OCTAVIA,

And melt-like the light-woven dreams The Eighth Daughter of J. L-g, Esq. That steal upon the mourner's slumberon the completion of her Sixth Year.

Sweet one! Til wish thee strength to bear (By A. A. Watts, Esq.) The ills that heaven may bid thee share ; Full many a gloomy month hath past, And when thine infancy hath fled, On fagging wing, regardless by

And Time with woman's zone hath bound Unmarked by aught, save grief-since last thee,

I gazed upon thy bright blue eye, If in the path thou'rt doom'd to tread And bade my lyre pour forth for thee The thorns of sorrow lurk, and wound thee, Its strains of wildest minstrelsy!

Be thine that exquisite relief For all my joys are withered now, Which blossoms 'mid the springs of grief !

The hopes I most relied on, thwarted, And like the many-tinted Bow, And sorrow hath o'erspread my brow Which smiles the showery clouds away,

With many a shade since last we parted: May Hope--Grief's Iris here below Yet, 'mid that murkiness of lot,

Attend and soothe thee on thy way, Young Peri, thou art unforgot!

Till full of years--thy cares at rest There are who love to trace the smile Thou seek'st the mansions of the blest!

That dimples upon Childhood's cheek, Young Sister of a mortal Nine, And hear from lips devoid of guile

Farewell !--perchance a long farewell! The dictates of the bosom break; Tho' woes unnumbered yet be mine Ah! who of such could look on thee Woes Hope may vainly strive to quell. Without a wish to rival me!

I'll half unteach my soul to pine, None ;-His must be a stubborn heart, So there be bliss for thee and thine! And strange to every softer feeling,

October 1817.

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