Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

Political Economy,

ON MERCANTILE EDUCATION AND PRINCIPLES.

(FROM THE GERMAN OF T. L. EWALD, BY L. MAN, OF LIVERPOOL.) (Translated expressly for the Kaleidoscope.)

"There are not more useful members in a commonwealth

than merchants.-Addison.

[Concluded from our last.]

There is another bad habit, which has been much encouraged of late years, and which threatens to operate in the most baneful manner; namely, the habit of making declarations which are not true, signing statements which are not exact, using certificates which are counterfeited; all in the way of trade: nay, some individuals are so keen in their calling, that they will not even scruple to take an oath, if that will forward their business, or procure them an advantage which they could not otherwise enjoy. Provided the oath be but arranged in such a manner, that no literal perjury can be brought home to them, they care very little for a virtual one; and so long as the practice is found advantageous, it is not even deprecated by people who pride themselves upon their strict I have often been astonished honesty in any other case. at the levity with which such things are treated by men who ought to know better. They do not consider, that when the limits of morality are once infringed, it is very easy to widen the gap at pleasure. If it be once allowable to do wrong, and to defend it because it is profitable, the rule for honesty ceases to be fixed: commercial policy will lengthen or shorten it according to circumstances, and the greatest deviation from rectitude may be excused on the same plea. It appears to me, that a real merchant would rather relinquish, than encourage, a trade which cannot be carried on without fraud, and not deal in goods which are prohibited, or negociate with countries which will not admit of a lawful intercourse.

[From Time's Telescope.] FOR FEBRUARY 1825.

fore the Amphictyons, or wise men, who formerly decided | promoted so much good, which could not have been e
similar claims in Greece. The continental deputies are fected in any other manner :-all these deserve the hit-
non-suited in their complaints against the extension of est praise and thanks of the community; but they ham
British commerce; and it is plainly shown to them, that their reward within themselves, and they were not urg
the natural advantages of England ought no more to ex-by the hope of any other.
cite the envy of other nations, than the beauty of a well- No other class of men can do so much good, or can
made person ought to call forth the anger of the beholders. it so spontaneously as merchants can; for they have
They are further given to understand, that it is still more riches at command, and they can transfer them
unreasonable to complain about the effects of superior art quickly than any other earthly power. Let every one
or industry; because the means of attaining them are proud who forms a link in that beneficent chain; but i
equal to all who are willing to use their heads and hands, his pride be an honourable one, and let him say with
and the plaintiffs are at perfect liberty to avail themselves himself,-I too will do credit to my station.
of their own faculties, in order to produce the wished-for
terms of equality. Nevertheless, the denunciations against The Naturalists' Diary.
the Navigation Act, and against what Britain calls her ma-
ritime rights, appear to be well founded; and it is the de-
cided opinion of the court, that these (so named) rights
are neither more nor less than an abuse of power, which
often brought on the most bloody wars, and which may
tend to the final overthrow of what is, in almost every
other respect, so highly respectable and praiseworthy.
Undue rivalry between individuals leads to the same
injustice, and is quite as foolish. It destroys the peace of
mind of its votaries; because it does not allow them to be
happy so long as they see others near them whose prospe-
rity is likely to equal or to surpass their own. They cannot
enjoy their own possessions under such circumstances, and
they will make the greatest sacrifices to have the pleasure
of ruining a competitor. They will lay hold of every op-changeable climate; it is more applicable, hover
portunity to injure his credit, and eagerly watch for the
moment which is to seal his doom. There is nothing too
unreasonable and too base for the spirit of envy, which
would fain assume the name of commercial policy; but
which is, in fact, as detestable as that of Richelieu, or of
Mazarin.

This spirit, however, is far from being the real mercan-
tile disposition. Most of the respectable members in the
commercial part of society would rather support a falling
The intercourse ought to be free, say the defenders of brother, than hasten his destruction; and, though self-
clandestine transactions; and we only oppose cunning to preservation may often forbid interference, commerce does
tyranny. But, granting that the complaints against the not exclude friendship. I can scarcely describe how highly
compulsory system are just, should we therefore act in I felt delighted on reading lately the anecdote of Sir Ro-
contradiction to the eternal laws of morality? Despotism bert Peel, in Hüttner's English Miscellanies. This rich,
may deprive us of many advantages, it may unjustly vex well-informed, and noble-minded merchant is possessor of
and injure us; but it cannot make us give up our princi- extensive cotton manufactories at Bury, in Lancashire,
ples; and we ought to forego a momentary profit, which and he gave, some years ago, a most brilliant proof of his
is only to be obtained by the sacrifice of what we hold being a total stranger to any thing like sordid jealousy.
most sacred. I am happy to say, that I still know many A great house, which has likewise cotton works, and is an
merchants, whom nothing would persuade to engage in a absolute rival of Sir Robert, was at the point of breaking,
business of an immoral nature, and who, nevertheless, are when the magnanimous man made it an advance of four-
making their fortunes; perhaps not quite so quickly as
teen thousand pounds sterling, and thereby kept it stand-
their enterprising neighbours, but in a much safer man- ing. His Majesty was pleased to confer the honour of
ner. The old proverb holds good in commercial transac-knighthood on Sir Robert Peel, on account of his patriotic
tions as in all others, and honesty is always the best spirit and general merit: but if there were no action of
policy.
his on record but the one just related, it would alone en-
title him to every civic honour.

Commercial jealousy is likewise often carried to a most shameful length in private transactions; and it produces in detail all the evils which national competition engenders on a larger scale. Envy is pernicious in all its operations: it is mere folly, so long as it does but make us dissatisfied, when we see others enjoy advantages which could never become entirely our own; it becomes crime, or it leads to crime, when we form the resolution of depriving others of what they lawfully possess; and it assumes its blackest features when our attempts are not even likely to conduce to our own benefit, but have merely the injury of others for their object.

The late Büsch had imagined a Diet, in which the various nations were to settle their commercial disputes beSome of the preceding remarks allude particularly to the licensing system, which was acted upon during the supremacy of the French government; when even respectable houses did not scruple to avail themselves of forged documents and false declarations. The author meant to infer, that such practices had a tendency to corrupt the morals of those who Indulged in them; because it familiarized their minds with equivocation and deceit.-Note of the Translator

Honourable distinctions are, indeed, never more properly conferred than when they are granted to persons of such a description. A Peel, who signs ten thousand pounds in a voluntary subscription for the support of the state, and who would have signed thrice as much if he had thought it necessary; who assists reduced families, and provides for them according to their former circumstances;-the Greek merchants at Neschin, who erected an infirmary at their own expense, and secured funds for its support; in order to show their gratitude for the confirmation of their ancient privileges ;-Mr. Syrenkow, at St. Petersburgh, who founded six charitable institutions, at the same time, in his native town;-Mr. Lukimatuschkin, at Tobolsk, who maintains twenty poor people, at his sole expense, in a fine stone building, which he has got built for that express purpose ;-all the noble individuals who have so largely contributed to the many humane societies in England; and all those who, in Hamburg, Lübeck, Frankfurt, and Bremen, have supported institutions by their voluntary subscriptions, and have done and

"As birds flying he scattereth the snow; and the falling d thereof is as the lighting of grasshoppers: the eye marileth at the beauty of the whiteness thereof; and the bart a astonished at the raining of it. The hour frest he poureth upon the earth; it lieth on the top of sharp Katan When the cold north wind bloweth, and the water water, and clotheth the water as with a breast-plate'—im siasticus, chap. xliii, v. 17-20.

gealed into ice, it abideth upon every gathering togtied

This beautiful description of the "magnificence of ter" is not often realised, for any length of time, February, than to any other month in the year: frost seldom sets in till the middle or latter end nuary, and in this case it generally continues fr seven weeks. There are few persons, we hope of hoar frost, the curious figures of snow, as seen by o insensible to the "beauties of winter:" the pho magnifying glass, the pendent icicles, the never-ca forms assumed by the frozen vapour on our windevi, d all the other countless wonders of this season, canto to interest and instruct the least observant spectator which spreads before us these attractive objects for fairy frost-work" of Nature. But it is not the da consideration;-what can be more delightful than

66

A SERENE WINTER'S NIGHT.
How delightful this night!--the balmiest sigh
Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear
Were discord to the speaking quietude
That wraps this moveless scene. Heaven's chon wall,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the Moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which Love had spread
To curtain her sleeping world. Yon gentle hills,
Robed in a garment of untrodden snow;
Yon darksome walls, whence icicles depend
So stainless, that their white and glittering spears
Tinge not the Moon's pure beam; yon castled steep,
Whose banner hangeth o'er the time-worn towe
So idly, that wrapt fancy deemeth it
A metaphor of Peace-all form a scene
Where musing Solitude might love to lift
Her soul above this sphere of earthliness:
Where Silence, undisturbed, might watch alone,
So cold, so bright, so still!

[ocr errors]

Although February, occasionally, shower down t snows," and give out a damp and clinging," days of soft air, and sunshine and unbroken blue sky. ter, eager, and shrewd air," this month can boast of La transporting us into the very heart of May, and us to look about and wonder what is become of the gro leaves and the flowers! Yet some of these re Bengal roses, stocks, wall-flowers, &c. Bees also be seen in February 1824,-as mezereons, pyrus japer

TO THE SNOWY EVE.

'Tis night, and Darkness o'er the land and sea
Outstretches gloomily her ebon wings:
Downward, with biting breath, the tempest flings
The whirling snow-flake, dancing giddily.
What is my thought?-the traveller on the moor,
Benighted, lonely, urging on his steed,
Where all is solitude, and none to heed.
What is my thought?-the ocean's awful roar
Recals the wandering mariner, afar
Upon the rayless deep, whose flashing gun,
The signal of distress, is heard by none,
Save HIM, who placed in heaven the evening star
What is my thought?-that feeling is distress,
And human life a wintry wilderness.

D. M. Mon

tempted by the warmth to leave their hives. The mild weather, however, did not continue so long as prematurely to excite vegetation, and call forth buds and blossoms to be destroyed by April frosts.

About the beginning of the month, the woodlark, one of our earliest and sweetest songsters, renews his note; No tree's lofty foliage embowereth his nest,

Bat lowly it lies on the earth's trodden breast;
And he flits through the wintry scene

With a silent, but strong and unmurmuring wing,

Till he marks the first glimpse of the green-vested spring;

Then away-away-through the splendours of day,

To heaven he carries his praise:

Ah! who does not love that delectable lay,

As o'er mountain and forest it plays?

Though lowlier he build than each musical bird,

Yet longer and louder his carols are heard,

And heaven his glad anthem repays:

As, day after day, to its portals he towers,

More sweet grows his nest midst deep verdure and flowers.

The thrush now commences his song, and tom-tits are seen hanging on the eaves of barns and thatched outhouses, particularly if the weather be snowy and severe. Rooks now revisit their breeding trees, and arrange the stations of their future nests. The harsh, loud voice of the missel thrush is now heard. The yellow hammer and chaffinch are heard towards the end of the month. About his time also, or the beginning of March, if the weather -e mild, the hedge-sparrow commences its chirping note, indicative of the approach of the pairing season. Turkey-cocks now strut and gobble. Partridges begin pair; the house-pigeon has young; field-crickets open heir holes; and woed-owls hoot: gnats play about, and sects swarm under sunny hedges; the stone-curlew clatours; and frogs croak. By the end of February, the tren has generally laid its eggs, and begun to sit. Moles mence their subterraneous operations. About this ne the green woodpecker is heard in the woods, making Loud noise.

In mild seasons there is much going on in the garden that may be seen by the naked eye" of those who refully look for it. The bloom buds of the shrubs and tit-trees are obviously swelling; and the leaves of the are ready to burst forth at the first favourable call. laurustinus still braves the winds and the frosts, and ms in blithe defiance of them. So does the China ; but meekly, and like a maiden,who will not droop ugh her lover be away, because she knows that he is to her, and will soon return.-Now, too, the visible alds of spring appear; but they have not yet put on eir gorgeous tabands, or surcoats of many colours. The ef of these are the tulips, which are now just showing mselves, shrouded closely in their sheltering alcoves of green. The hyacinths, too, have sent up their trim ces of green, and are just peeping up from the midst of m in their green veils, the cheek of each flower-bud ssed and clustering against that of its fellow, like a of little heads peeping out from the porch of an ivyand cottage, as the London coach passess. Now, too, se pretty orphans, the crocuses and snowdrops,-those adlings, that belong neither to Winter nor Sping, are neither lingering remnants of the one, not early alds of the other, show their modest faces scarcely an above the dark earth, as if they were afraid to rise n it, lest a stray "March wind" should whistle them sy. he hyacinth, narcissus, polyanthus, Persian iris, mig

TO THE SNOWDROP.

Beneath the changeful skies of early spring.
Emblem of human life and frail as fair,

Pale visitant of earth,

I mark thy modest bloom.

Herald of brighter scenes and calmer joys, When the sweet lark enamoured of the dawn,

Above the cottage roof

Shall pour his melting lay;

Though surly winter passing from the plain Reluctant with his storms (while, rude and wild, Stern desolation marks

His long and lonely track.)

Oft wraps thy beauty in a wreath of snow,
And gems with icicles that faintly shine

Below with imaged beam

Thy cold but lovely brow;

1 see thee smile like innocence at fate, Beneath his idle rage and parting storms, Secure of happier hours

And skies without a cloud.

So piety, upheld by faith and hope,
Endures serene the passing storms of life,
With eye intent on Heaven,
And thought already there.

Oxford.

J. W. S.

nionette, and sweet-briar, compose and diffuse a delight- | injury, and most of them in ruins: the fine Bazaar is still ful and luxurious odour for the drawing-room, at this standing, but much shaken and injured. The exact numseason of the year. ber of those who have perished in the ruins I cannot

The days are now visibly longer, and we are busily en- ascertain. Merza Ally Aebor assures me that 2000 is ungaged in the pleasing occupation of observing the reno-der the number, but receive this as mere conjecture, and vation of nature. Every tree and every shrub presents report only; I should think half the number nearer the something new; and to those who are fond of botany, mark. the present season of the year is peculiarly interesting. What can be more delightful to an intelligent mind than to view the opening bud, the expanded leaf, the first appearance of the flower bud, its perfection, and, last of all, its wonderful fructification.

What lore with tranquil pleasure better fills
The mind, fair BOTANY! than thine!
Thy paths

Retired, with thy own flowers are ever strewed,
Thy own fresh garlands ever grace thy brow.
Where'er thy votaries thou leadest, whether
Along the silent vale, or verdant lane,
By hedge-row sheltered, or o'er the lone heath,
Whether to rushy pool, green-mantled, or
Through the wild forest's thick-entangled maze,
Whether by softly murm'ring brook, that bright
Reflects its gay-enamelled bank; or 'long
The rocky shore, dashed by the foaming waves
Of ocean wide; or up the steep ascent
Of rugged mountain, rising to the clouds;
Still pleasure, profit, health, thy steps attend.

The Traveller.

THE LATE EARTHQUAKE IN PERSIA. [From the Bombay Gazette of September 8.] We are indebted to a correspondent in Persia, who was an eye-witness, for the following account of the dreadful earthquake that has devastated so much of what is interesting in that ill-fated country.

Jehan Numah near Shiraz, June 25, 1824. This morning, about half-past fixe a. m., I was disturbed out of a sound sleep by the violent eommotion of an earthquake, of much greater force than the one I sent you an account of from Khonartueta on the 2d inst. My first object was to move out of the house, but to accomplish it was difficult and dangerous, owing to the number of large bricks, pieces of wood, and mortar, falling from the roof all round the outside of the house, and a few stones and chanam from the ceiling inside that had been previously injured. Having happily effected my escape, without injury to myself or servants, I walked out of the garden to see what damage Shiraz had suffered; the first sad effect that I observed was the complete destruction of the Shaw Meez Ally Ebna Hoonza, a beautiful mosque, about 400 yards in front of this garden, and perhaps the same distance from Shiraz; its finely ornamented cupola had fallen in, and the body of the building was rent in every part.. Shiraz itself was enveloped in dust, nor could I for many minutes see any thing else; but this sad sight was enough to show that it had suffered severely. As the dust cleared away, it was truly awful and distressing to see the ruins of the fine stately mosques and minarets, a few minutes before the chief ornaments of the town, but now a shapeless mass, and each succeeding minute, as it vanished, some fresh object presented its shattered form. The eastern side of the wall that surrounded the town, and the only face discernable hence, has fallen in, and most of the towers were laid level with the ground, and the remainder much injured. But melancholy and distressing as what I have attempted to describe may be, what is it compared to the sufferings of the unfortunate inhabitants? The cries and lamentations of thousands, bewailing the loss of relations, friends, and every thing dear, resounded in the air, and were enough to soften the hardest heart; you may then easily conceive what my feelings were, indeed are at this moment, hearing dismal cries and mournful lamentations in every quarter. To get any thing like an accurate account of the sufferers will take some days. Since the first great shock, and between that time and ten o'clock, there have been three shocks, though smart, nothing compared to the first. I have pitched my tent in the garden, and intend occupying it; the comparative degree of safety will more than compensate for the comforts of the house. The inhabitants have quitted the town, and are living in tents, routies, and under cumlies outside. Merza Ally Aebor (our agent), poor fellow, and his whole family, are living with me; his house is completely destroyed; and Zakee Khan's (the Minister's) quite in ruins; the Prince's state room destroyed, and every part of the palace has been much injured; to be short, I believe not a house has escaped without some

The Housewife.

"Housekeeping and husbandry, if it be good,
Must love one another as cousins in blood:
The wife, too, must husband as well as the man,
Or farewel thy husbandry, do what thou can."

COFFEE.

Good Turkey coffee is by far the most salutary of all liquors drunk at meal time. It possesses nervine and astringent qualities, and may be drunk with advantage at all times, except when there is bile on the stomach. If coffee be drunk warm within an hour after dinner, it is of singular use to those who have headache from weakness of stomach, contracted by sedentary habits, close attention, or accidental drunkenness. It is of service when the digestion is weak; and persons afflicted with the sick headache are much benefited by its use, in some instances; though this effect is by no means uniform. Dr. Mosely observes, that "the extraordinary influence which coffee, judiciously prepared, imparts to the stomach, from its tonic and invigorating qualities, is strongly exemplified by the immediate effect produced on taking it when the stomach is overloaded with food, or nauseated with surfeit, or debilitated by intemperance. To constitutionally weak stomachs, it affords a pleasing sensation; it accele rates the process of digestion, corrects crudities, and removes cholics and flatulencies. Besides its effect in keeping up the harmony of the gastric powers, it diffuses a genial warmth that cherishes the animal spirits, and takes away the listlessness and languor which so greatly embitter the hours of nervous people, after any deviation to excess, fatigue, or irregularity. From the warmth and efficacy of coffee, in attenuating the viscid fluids, and increasing the vigour of the circulation, it has been used with great success in the debilitating disorders of women (fluor albus, &c.) in dropsy, and in worm complaints; and in those comatoes, anasarcous, and such other diseases, that arise from unwholesome food, want of exercise, weak fibres, and obstructed perspiration. Coffee having the admirable property of promoting perspiration, it allays thirst, and checks preternatural heat. The great use of coffee in France is supposed to have abated the prevalency of the gravel. In the French colonies, where coffee is more used than with the English, as well as in Turkey, where it is the princi pal beverage, not only the gravel but the gout, those inveterate tormentors of the human race, are scarcely known. It has been found useful in quieting the tickling vexatious cough that often accompanies the small-pox, and other eruptive fevers." Prepared clear and strong, and diluted with a large portion of boiled milk, it becomes a highly nutritious and balsamic diet, proper in hectic, pulmonic, and all complaints where a milk diet is useful; and is a great restorative to constitutions emaciated and worn down by gout and other chronic disorders. Long watching and intense study are wonderfully supported by it, and without the ill consequences that succeed the suspension of rest and sleep, when the nervous influence has nothing to sus tain it. Bacon says coffee "comforts the head and heart and helps digestion." Dr. Willis says, "being daily drunk, it wonderfully clears and enlightens each part of the soul, and disperses all the clouds of every function." The celebrated Dr. Harvey used it often; Voltaire lived almost upon it; and the learned and sedentary of every country have recourse to it, to refresh the brain oppressed by study and contemplation.

and would burn a candle all night, unless you use the Economy in Candles.-If you are without a rush-light, following precaution, it is ten to one an ordinary candle will gutter away in an hour or two, sometimes to the endangering the safety of the house. This may be avoided by placing as much common salt, finely powdered, as will reach from the tallow to the bottom of the black part of the wick of a partly-burnt candle; when, if the same be lit, it will burn very slowly, yielding a sufficient light for a bed-chamber: the salt will gradually sink as the tallow is consumed, the melted tallow being drawn through the salt, and consumed in the wick.-The Economist.

Use of Copper Vessels.-A source of danger from the use of culinary vessels of copper, has recently been discovered by Sir H. Davy, viz. that weak solutions of common salt, such as are daily made by adding a little salt to boiling vegetables and other eatables in our kitchens, act strongly upon copper, although strong ones do not affect it.

Poetry.

DEATH.

Who art thou, grisly Monarch, shadowy thing,
And what thy name, victorious, mighty King?
Where is thy vast domain, and where its bounds,
What "Alps on Alps" thy dreary realm surrounds?
What billowy waters lave thy lonely shores,
Where the storm threatens, and the tempest roars?
Mysterious Ruler! round thy halls of state,
What shivering multitudes for ever wait!
And, oh! what groans, what agony, and strife,
Proclaim thy struggle with conflicting life!
Oh! in that hour thy captive to resign,

What floods of tears, what sobs convulsive thine!
Inexorable as unyielding Fate,

Thou smil'st in scorn, with victory elate;

Bid'st the winged arrow, fraught with ruin, fly,
Nor shrink'st to mark the best, and dearest die!
Nature's dread enemy! appalled we trace
Thy stamp on infancy's angelic face:

Hid in the rose, thou cheats the trusting heart;
Gives promise to the eye, concealed the dart;
Pranks it at revel, and at festal gay,
And, unsuspected, bears thy prize away!
Age has its warnings; nature needs repose;
The eye is dim, and, wearied, longs to close;
The step unequal now, and altered mien,
Prepare the pilgrim for his final scene;
And, undismayed, he marks the victor nigh,
Nor gives to life one fond relenting sigh;
His race achieved, the fitful warfare done,
Tired mortal immortality puts on;
Speeds its glad way to Heaven's supreme abode,
And yields, adoring, to the will of God.

But Youth has visions bland of coming years,
And Hope her brightest robe of beauty wears;
And lovely seems this fleeting scene below
To hearts untutored by the teacher, Woe;
And, through the vista of far distant time,
Allure fair shadows, and bright forms sublime;
Alas! ere noon the glittering dream has fled,
And Youth and Hope lie numbered with the dead.
Imperial Monarch! wave thy ebon wand;
What countless myriads own its stern command!
And, lo! unmoored, the bark of Acheron glides
O'er swelling Lethe's still and sluggish tides;
And youth, and age, th' unpolished, and refined,
The finished scholar, and untutored hind,
The loved, and scorned, the evil, and the good,
The skiff new launched on Time's resistless flood,
And shattered bark upon the waters tost,
Dismantled, shipwrecked, amid tempests nurst;
Prisoners of Hope, to seek a happier world,
Alike by thee to Hades' shades are hurl'd!
Despotic Sovereign! whose imperial sway
The head that bears a erown must yet obey,
E'en as the meanest slave that plies the oar,
And toils, and languishes on Afric's shore:
Unshaken Monarch! whose resistless hand
Waves the bold sceptre of supreme command;
Inexorable Judge, whose nod is fate,
At whose tribunal Mercy never sate;
Where Pity pleads in vain, and vain the prayer
Wrung from the hopeless in their last despair;
Implacable and cruel! I would bend,
And woo thee, King of Terrors, as a friend:
OL! I would hail thee as a seraph blest,

Triumphant escort to a place of rest;
Great Rescuer ! the prison that unbars,
And shields from open and from hidden wars;
"Balm of hurt minds;" the refuge of distress
When friends abandon, and when foes oppress;
Physician that alone true calm can give
To heal the bruised heart, and bid it live;
Kind, generous friend, that bears the exile home,
And bids the weary wanderers cease to roam.
Restorer, Liberator, Angel, Friend,

Oh! hear, and bid the toilsome warfare end;
Unloose the fetters that enchain the soul,
And, cruel, bar it from its destined goal;
Oh! hear, and rescue from this dim abode,
And back restore the spirit to its God.
Liverpool

G.

HOW SWEET IT IS AT FALL OF EVEN. [FROM A PLEASING LITTLE VOLUME OF POEMS, ENTITLED "WILD ROSES," WRITTEN BY MR. THOMAS FENBY, OF LIVERPOOL.]

How sweet it is at fall of even,

While softly down the arch of heaven,

On golden clouds pavilion'd gay,

Is borne the glorious god of day,
To hear in air sweet music float,

From shepherd's pipe in vales remote.
While stillness o'er each landscape reigns,
Save here and there the warbled strains
Of some sweet bird; with, now and then,
The sheep heard bleating in the pen,
Whose bells, with tinklings silver sweet,
Like sounds of bliss our spirits greet.
Then sweet on woodland heights to rove,
Link'd arm in arm with one we love,
To watch bright hues fade from the skies,
See twilight come, and Cynthia rise
Serenely bright, and shed her beam
To lighten mountain, vale, and stream.
And while with bliss our bosoms swell,
Unheard the tale of love to tell
Unto the all-attentive ear

Of her as our existence dear,
Whose eyes are by the moonlight shown,
Beaming with love to meet our own.
Sweet as the light shed from the skies,
They beam on ours; while tender sighs
We hear, which o'er our bosoms roll
And sink into our inmost soul.
Such influence sweet, on such an even,
Has love, and that mild orb of heaven.

[blocks in formation]

Spread wide the gates of rugged winter now,

Let beauteous Spring appear with flower-crown'd brow;
For lo! the herdsman drives the lowing kine
To liquid streams; the kid, too (grateful sign)

Is seen to press the dugs now hanging low
With milk; the country boor with sturdy plough
Impatient sallies forth, rejoiced to see
His lands, so lately frozen, once more free.
With fond delight he views the budding leaf,
Marks how the fertile rain, in showers so brief,
Bedews the grassy plains; or how the hen
Protects her infant tribe; with piercing ken
Descries the foe, or seeks the wholesome food,
And summons to the feast her straggling brood.
Behold, the sower, now, with bounteous hand,
Showers down his seeds upon the well-Eoughed land;

But suns roll on, and nights to nights succeed, Before his work is crowned with fortune's meed. Now when the day declines and work is o'er, Soft pleasure enters gally at the door, And stays her welco.ne foot, and frees from care The hearts of all around the fireside there. The circling bowl is filled, the goblets foam With richest wine; the stores of Bacchus bloom Within their cups-the god's own rosy dew: They drink and quaff till slumbers sweet imbue Their wearied limbs. Scarce does Aurora's light Burst forth o'er heaven in wonted splendours bright, (Recalling man to toils he left last night) Than, springing from his couch with morn's first red, The husbandman forsakes his genial bed; To nature's God pours out, with all his race, His earliest prayer, and matin song of praise; Then goes, exulting, forth to cultivate, With toil and care, his richly-tilled estate: At home he lives in happiness and peace, And when abroad these blessings do not cease.

[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][ocr errors][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][merged small]

[We copy the following extremely interesting arti from the Literary Gazette, which, with its usual gence, has anticipated public curiosity on the subject are decidedly of opinion, however, that this edit Hamlet is an imperfect publication, made up, partis, from memory, and partly from the assistance of the act who played in it. It is impossible to suppose that Sha speare ever wrote it, as we here find it printed.]

HAMLET-EDITION OF 1603.

We will rather express our gratification that an edi of Hamlet, anterior to any hitherto known to the war has just been brought to light, than our surprise that should have been so long hidden. Yet it is a stra thing that such a volume as that in which it has be found, and in the possession of the parties to whom it

[ocr errors]

nged, should have been suffered to be undiscovered or noticed among the lumber of any library. Every perSon of literary taste must wonder, and every enthusiastic amirer of Shakspeare be inclined to utter an exclamaon of dismay, when we lay before them the contents of his precious book.-They are as follow:

1. The Merchant of Venice. Printed by J. R. for Thomas Heyes. 1600. First Edition. [Perfect.]

2, The Merry Wives of Windsor. Printed by T. C. for Ar. hur Johnson. 1602. First Edition. [Wanting last leaf but 3. Much Adoe about Nothing. Printed by V. S. for Andrew Wise and William Aspley. 1600. First edition. [Perfect.] 4 A Midsummer Nights Dreame. Printed for Thomas Fisher. 1600. First edition. [Wanting four leaves in the

: middle

5. Troylus and Cressida. One of the two first editions, both printed in 1609. [Wants Title.]

6. Romeo and Juliet. Printed by Thomas Creede for ert Burby. 1599. First edition of the enlarged Play.

2,200 lines; while the edition of 1604 (the quarto edition
reprinted in Stevens's four vols.) consists of sixty leaves,
with an average of thirty-two lines per page, or total of
above 3,800 lines. This shows that the newly-discovered
drama does not contain much more than half the text of
the earliest edition previously known.

But it is very singular also in other respects. There
are various new readings, of infinite interest; sentiments
expressed, which greatly alter several of the characters;
differences in the names; and many minor points, which
are extremely curious. For example, every alternate page
is headed Tragedie and Tragedy; Laertes is Leartes,
throughout; Polonius is Corambis; Gildenstern is Gilder-
stone; Osrick has no name, but is styled a braggart gen-
tleman of the court : and in the closet-scene " the Ghost |
enters in his nightgown."

From these variations, and the absence of so much of what appeared in the edition of the ensuing year, 1604, we hardly Cuth-know what to infer. It has been said that Shakespeare found[Per-ed his play, as was often his custom, on a preceding drama; but this has too much of Shakespeare in it to be that 7. Hamlet. Printed by N. L. and John Trundell. 1603. drama. It may be surmised, that in the course of its First known edition. Last leaf wanting; but it contains immense popularity some piratical bookseller obtained a Hamlet's death, and very few lines are wanting, probably not garbled copy of Hamlet, and published it; for at this half so many as occur after the hero's death, in the received period copyrights were not sold by authors, as in our days, and Shakespeare seems never to have paid much attention to literary profit, or to any fame beyond the walls of the theatre where his productions were performed. But we will leave the discussion of this point to others, and proceed to make our readers acquainted with some of the most striking features in the play, as it is given. It opens, as in later editions.

text of the play:

8. Henry IV part II. Villiam Aspley. 1600. aves. [Perfect ]

Printed by V. S. for Andrew Wise and First edition. Signature E. has six -part I. Printed by P. S. for Andrew Wise. 98. First Edition. [Perfect.]

10. Henry V. Printed by Thomas Creede for Thomas quier. 1602. Second edition. [Perfect.]

11. Richard III. Printed by Thomas Creede for Andrew ise. 1602. Third edition. [Perfect.]

12 The Two Noble Kinsmen, by John Fletcher and Wm. akespeare. 1634. First edition. [Perfect.]

The size of this important and curious volume is the Hent small quarto, and, with the exceptions specified we, it is in excellent order. It was the property of Sir Hanmer, but must have been purchased by him after had published his Shakespeare; otherwise he would ve made use of it in that publication. From Sir T. immer it passed into the possession of the Bunbury ily; and it was from one of its branches that it came the hands of its present owners, Messrs. Payne and efore we proceed to give a more particular account of chief ornament of this tome, it may be agreeable to fe certain data from commentators on, and editions of, akespeare's Plays.

Mr. Malone had seen the Hamlet 1604, for he preserved title; and, indeed, we are assured that he had that %, now the Duke of Devonshire's (from the late J. mble's library) for many months in his possession. title is,

he Tragicall Historie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke. By Miam Shakespeare. Newly imprinted and enlarged to - most as much again as it was, according to the true and rfect Coppie. Printed by J. R. for N. Landure. 1604." seeding editions were

[blocks in formation]

Enter two Centinels.

1. Stand: who is that?
2. Tis I.

1. O you come most carefully vpon your watch.
2. And if you meete Marcellus and Horatio

The partners of my watch, bid them make haste..
1. I will: See who goes there.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
Hor. Friends to this ground.

Mar. And leegemen to the Dane, &c.

The omissions here, as well as throughout, which will readily be discovered by looking at a modern edition, tend strongly to confirm the suspicion, that the play was picked out by hearing it performed, and getting speeches and parts from some of the actors. From where our quotation ends, the text is nearly the same as in the quarto of 1611. The first appearance of the Ghost is at the line "the bell then tozoling (not beating') one. The dialogue continues nearly the same, except that the omissions are considerable; as for instance, the Ghost re-enters at the cue, ground of this our watch," after which, in the later editions, there is much matter. But the difference of text is also observable; for example, when the Ghost vanishes the first time, Horatio says

[ocr errors]

In what particular thought, to worke I know not
But in the grosse and scope of my opinion,
This bodes, &c.
[4to of 1611.]

Dexteritie to incestuous sheetes,

Ere yet the shooes were olde.

The which she followed my dead fathers corse
Like Nyobe, all tears: married, well it is not,
Nor it cannot come to good:

But breake my heart, for I must hold my tongue. We cannot, at least this week, go through the minutia of the new (old) Play, and point out where it differs and coincides with the later copies. After the above Soliloquy, Horatio enters with " Health (not hail) to your Lordship:" and the dialogue continues to "For Godsake let me heare it."

A fine Shakesperian expression occurs here in the line usually printed In the dead waste (or even waist) and middle of the night.” which is

In the dead Vast and middle of the night. Opelia appears as usual. The Ghost appears to Hamlet at the line

More honoured in the breach than in observance.

Hamlet's Soliloquy, on his entrance after Opelia's correspondence is shown, runs thus:

To be, or not to be, I there's the point,
To die, to sleepe, is that all? I, all:

No, to sleepe, to dreame, I marry there it goes,
For in that dreame of death, when wee awake
And borne before an euerlasting Iudge,
From whence no passenger euer retur❜nd
The vndiscouered country, at whose sight
The happy smile, and the accursed damnd.
But for this, the ioyfull hope of this
Whol'd beare the scornes and flattery of the world,
Scorned by the rich, the rich curssed of the poore?
The widow being oppressed, the orphan wrong'd
The taste of hunger, or a tirants raigne,
And thousand more calamities besides,
To grunt and sweate vnder this weary life,
When that he may his full quictus make
With a bare bodkin, who would this indure,
But for a hope of something after death?

Which pulses the braine, and doth confound the sence,
Which makes vs rather beare those euilles we haue,
Than flie to others that we know not of.

I that, O this conscience makes cowardes of 78 all.
Lady in thy orizons, be all my sinnes remembred.
This is a poor version ; but, passing over the interven -
ing scenes which follow the common course, we come to
the most remarkable difference in the whole-the famous
Closet Scene; though in doing so we omit that beginning
(here)

Why what a dunghil idiote slaue ame I;
and that in the advice to the players, where "town crier"
reads "a towne bull bellow." There is one striking word
in the Play Scene, which removes a phrase that has been
much objected to:

Ham. Lady will you give me leave, and so forth;
To lay my head in your lappe.

Opel. No my Lord.

Ham. Vpon your lap, what do you thinke I meant
contrary matters.

But ws are brought to our conclusion, and can only add
some remarkable passages of the Closet Scene:
Looke you nowe here is your husband
With a face like Vulcan

A looke fit for a murder and a rape,

Whereas the newly-found play reads
In what particular to worke I know not
But in the thought and scope of my opinion
This bodes some strange eruption to the state.
In the next Scene the King, Queen, &c. enter; and it
is chiefly remarkable for the name of Corambis being in-
troduced instead of Polonius and Leartes for Laertes. Two
Ambassadors are mentioned, and an improvement, as their
presence gives occasion for the King's speech, otherwise
uncalled for, to his own Court. It begins" Lordes we
have urit," omitting all the foregoing parts; and the whole
is greatly amplified in the later copies. We will not oc-
| cupy our page by quoting Hamlet's Soliloquy, when these
ereunt, as it can be seen by turning to the common Play;
but we imagine that our readers will be pleased to have it At the exit of the Ghost, the Queen says,
as it stands in this original.

Ham.

Ex. all but Hamlet.

O that this too much grieu'd and sallied flesh
Would melt to nothing, or that the vniuersell
Globe of heaven would turne al to a Chaos!

O God within two moneths; no not two: married,
Mine vncle: O let me not thinke of it,

My fathers brother: but no more like
My father, than I to Hercules.

Within two months, ere yet the salt of most
Vnrighteous feates had left their flushing
In her galled eyes: she married, o God, a beast
Deuoyd of reason would not have made
Such speede: Frailtie, thy name is woman,
Why she would hang on him, as if increase
Of appetite had growne by what it looked on.
O wicked wicked speede, to make such
Kidd's, if we remember rightly.

A dull dead hanging looke, and hell-bred eie
To affright children and amaze the world:
And this same have you left to change with death
What divell has thus consoned you at hobman blinde?
Enter the Ghost in his Night Gowne.
Hamlet exclaims,

Saue me, saue me you gratious
Powers above, &c

Alas it is the weakenesse of thy braine

Which makes thy tongue to blazon thy hearts griefe;
But as I have a soule, I sweare by Heauen,

I never knew of this most horride murder:
But, Hamlet, this is only fantasie,
And for my love forget these idle fits.

Ham. Idle, no mother my pulse doth beate like yours,

It is not madnesse that possesseth Hamlet.

O mother, if euer you did my deare father loue

Forbeare the adulterous bed to-night

And win yourself by little as you may

In time it may be you will lothe him quite.

And mother, but assist me in revenge

And in his death your infamy shall die.
Queene. Hamlet. I vow by that Majesty

That knowes our thoughts, and lookes into our hearts
I will conceale, consent, and doe my best,
What stratagem soe're you shall deuise.
Ham. It is enough, mother good night.

These are very striking, and would have tempted us to go farther in this analysis, but we trust we have done enough to satisfy, in a sufficient measure, the intense curiosity which this book has raised in every literary circle; and the more so, as we have learnt, with much gratifica tion, that Messrs. Payne and Foss are about to commit the Hamlet to the press, for a literatim impression. They will greatly oblige the public by this judicious conduct, and every lover of Shakespeare, i. e. every lover of literature, will thank them for it. The work may be looked for in about a fortnight.

The original volume is valued at from £200 to £800 by the Philobiblios.

[FROM A MORNING PAPER.]

WESTMINSTER REVIEW, NO. V. AND
CAPTAIN MEDWIN.

MR. MEDWIN makes LORD BY

RON say,

'His description of the Georglone, in the Manfrini palace at Venice, is meant for the Countess.'-p. 24.

"We will put out of the question," said he, "cavalier serventicism."'-p. 28.

'He was sixty, and she six-
teen.'-p. 30.

'From the first they had
separate apartments, and she
always used to call him Sir.
P. 30.

This number of the Westminster Review, which appeared last week, contains several valuable articles, and seems, on the cursory perusal we have been able to give it, to be a very good one. Our notice has been particularly attracted by an article on Dallas's Recollections, and Med. win's Conversations of Lord Byron. It evidently has proceeded from some one intimately acquainted with Lord Byron, and who has had access to all his papers. The Comments of Lord Byron himself upon Mr. Dallas's letters to him are some of them very amusing, and the removal of any imputation which might have attached to Lord Byron from that publication, complete. The most generally interesting part of the article will, however, bep. 42. the statement of facts, in opposition to Medwin's Conversations, which we think worth extracting at large:

THE FACT.

All this was not agreeable, and at length I was forced to smuggle her out of Ravenna.'

LORD BYRON speaks in MR.
MEDWIN's book.

MR. MEDWIN's Title-page.
But to return to the Guic-
'Conversations of Lord By- Mr. Medwin never resided cioli.-The old Count did not
ron, noted during a residence with Lord Byron at Pisa, or object to her availing herself of
with his Lordship at Pisa, in any where else. He came to the privileges of the country;
the years 1821 and 1822.' Pisa in November, 1821; he an Italian would have recon-
left Pisa in March, 1822; he ciled him: indeed, for some
returned to Pisa the 18th of time he winked at our inti-
August, 1822, and left that macy, but at length made an
place on the 28th of August. exception against me as a fo-
During these periods he occa-reigner, a heretic, an English-
sionally dined and rode out
with his Lordship.

MR. MEDWIN makes LORD BY-
RON say,

'I knew very few of the The invitation to the GeneGenevese. Hentsch was very vese professor did not come civil to me; and I have a great from Lord Byron; it was an respect for Sismondi. I was imprudent liberty taken by his forced to return the civilities domestic physician, and Lord of one of their professors, by Byron was not detained from asking him, and an old gentle- the dinner-table by the wind man, a friend of Gray's, to dine He staid away on purpose, with me. I had gone out to saying to the doctor, “as you mail early in the morning, and asked these guests yourself, the wind prevented me from you may entertain them yourreturning in time for dinner. self." I understand that I offended them mortally.'—p.15.

MR. MEDWIN'S LD. BYRON says, 'What is become of my boatmen and boat?

Lord Byron had no boatmen.

I suppose she Mr. Hobhouse did not arrive was rotten; she was never at Diodati until after the tour worth much. When I went alluded to. the tour of the Lake in her,

with Shelley and Hobhouse,

she was nearly wrecked, &c.' -Pp. 15, 16.

MR. MEDWIN in his own person says,

man,and what was worse than
all, a liberal.'-pp. 31, 32.

'Shortly after the plot was
discovered, I received several
anonymous letters, advising
me to discontinue my forest
rides.'-p. 37.

'I had a magazine of 100
stand of arms in the house.
p. 36.

'They were exiled, and their possessions confiscated.'-p.37.

'If they could have got suffcient proof, they would have arrested me; but no one be trayed me.'-p. 38.

THE FACT.

Lord Byron could not mean to represent the Countess Guiccioli, by his description of the female in the celebrated picture by Giorgione-for he had never seen the Countess when he wrote the description. It may be as well to mention that thepicture contains more than one portrait, which the Conversation-writer does not seem to have known, as also that the description is meant for the female portrait itself.

A long speech on the subject of Madame Guiccioli, and on the politics of Ravenna, is put into Lord Byron's mouth, the authenticity of which may be Judged of by the following lists of mis-statements, which Lord Byron never could have made. The Countess Guiccioli was in her twentieth year.

They had not separate apartments, and she never called her hushand Sir, but Alexan

der, his Christian name.

This is not the case; the
Countess openly followed her

father, Count Gamba, fifteen
days after his banishment, to
Florence.

The Count Guiccioli was strongly and notoriously attached to the liberals himself.

Lord Byron did not receive any anonymous letters on this occasion; a placard was posted on the walls near his house, in which he was mentioned as protector of the Carbonari. Lord Byron had five or six carbines or muskets, and five or six pair of pistols, ready for his travelling service.

The writer speaks of the Counts Gamba their possessions were not confiscated.

The papal government never evinced such an intention. Cardinal Gonsalvi was always extremely well-disposed to wards Lord Byron.

It did not occur at this time; it happened five months be

'An event occurred at this
time, at Ravenna, that made a
deep impression on me. I al- fore.
luded to it in Don Juan. The He was a persecutor of the
military commandant of the carbonari, and it was suspected
place, who, though suspected that he was killed by a carbo-
of being secretly a carbonaro, naro.
was too powerful a man to be
arrested, was assassinated op.
posite to my palace; a spot,
perhaps, selected by choice for
The first part of the state the commission of the crime.

He always has pistols in
his holster, and eight or ten ment is true-the second un- The measures which were
pair, by the first makers in true-a courier carry eight or adopted to screen the mur-
London, carried by his cou- ten pair of pistols!! This cou-derer, proved the assassina-
rier.'-p 17.
rier did occasionally carry one tion to have taken place by
pair of pistols.
order of the police.'

[blocks in formation]

The Commandant was at the head of the police, and directed the police against the

carbonari.

The whole of what is put into Lord Byron's mouth, as to Lord Byron, is a romance-the truth is as follows:

'I had my foot in the stirrup It was eight o'clock in the
at my usual hour of exercise, evening, Lord Byron was going
when my horse started at the into his bed-room to change
report of a gun-on looking his neckcloth, in order to walk
up, I perceived a man throw to an evening conversazione,
down a carbine, and run away accompanied by his servant,
at full speed, and another Battista Falsieri. He heard a
stretched upon the pavement musket shot, and he sent Bat-
a few yards from me."
tista to inquire the cause.

MR. MEDWIN'S LORD BYRON.

THE FACT. Battista went, and reported that the commandant hade killed at a little distance the house. Lord Byron went into the street himse and ordered the wounded m to be carried into his ho Accordingly, Battista carrie! him on his shoulders, and la him on the bed of Lord Byron valet. No one was seen to run away, but Battista found a can bine, yet warm, on the ground Lord Byron detailed the ap eumstances, at the time, in a letter to his friends in Eng land; and since the appear ance of the pretended Conver sations, those who were pre sent at the stone have been questioned, and hav,furnished the above facts. It may be mentioned also, that in Don Juan the time of this accident is mentioned as being “right” in the evening. Mr. Moore had no little be

[blocks in formation]

There was nobody in the we set off for a country seat carriage that conveyed Lad of Sir Ralph's; and I was sur- and Lady Byron from Sealan prised at the arrangements for to Hannaby, on the day the journey, and somewhat their marriage, besides in out of humour to find a lady's Lordship and his wife. maid stuck between me and my bride. It was rather too early to assume the husband; so I was forced to submit, but it was not with a very good grace.'—pp. 47, 48. LORD BYRON in MR. MEDWIN'S book.

"We had a house in town, Lord and Lady Byro gave dinner-parties, had sepa- not give dinner parties rate carriages, and launched had not separate carr into every sort of extrava- they did not launch out gance. This could not last any extravagance. long. My wife's £10,000 soon melted way,' &c.—pp. 49, 501

[blocks in formation]

ter, not a few lines, and it be gan, "My Lord," not "Siz It was dated Feb. 2, 1816 All my former friends, The will, in which Cap even my cousin, George By- George Byron was not ron, who had been brought up queathed any of his com with me, and whom I loved property, was made in Ja as a brother, took my wife's 1815, long before the part. He followed the stream tion of Lord and Lady Byr when it was the strongest against me, and can never expect any thing from me. He shall never touch a sixpence of mine.'-pp. 61, 52.

« НазадПродовжити »