-Lightnings blast

-not thee,

But those that by their subtle incantations
Have wrought upon thy innocent soul!

Look there!
Dost not behold him,
Thy God! thy father's God! the God of Antioch!
And feel'st thou not the cold and silent awe,
That emanates from his immortal presence
O'er all the breathless temple? Dars't thou see
The terrible brightness of the wrath that burns
On his arch'd brow? Lo, how the indignation
Swells in each strong dilated limb! his stature
Grows loftier; and the roof the quaking pavement,
The shadowy pillars, all the temple feels
The offended God!-I dare not look again,
Dar'st thou ?

MARGARITA.

I see a silent shape of stone,
In which the majesty of human passion
Is to the life expressed. A noble image,
But wrought by mortal hands upon a model
As mortal as themselves.

CALLIAS.

Ha! look again, then,
Mark how the purple clouds
There in the east.
Throng to pavilion him the officious winds
Pant forth to purify his azure path,
From night's dun vapours and fast scattering mists.
The glad earth wakes in adoration; all
The voices of all animate things lift up
Tumultuons orisons; the spacious world
Lives but in him, that is its life. But he,
Disdainful of the universal homage,
Holds his calm way, and vindicates for his own
Th' illimitable heavens, in solitude
Of peerless glory unapproachable.
What means thy proud undazzled look, to adore
Or mock, ungracious?

MARGARITA.

On yon burning orb

I gaze and say,-Thou mightiest work of Him That launched thee forth, a golden crowned Bridegroom,

To hang thy everlasting nuptial lamp

In the exulting Heavens. In thee the light,
Creation's eldest born, was tabernacled.

To thee was given to quicken slumbering nature,
And lead the seasons' slow vicissitude
Over the fertile breast of mother-earth;
Till men began to stoop their groveling prayers
From the Almighty Sire of all to thee.
And I will add;

This part concludes with a hymn, by Margarita, to the Saviour, from which we can only afford three

stanzas.

Thy birthright in the world was pain and grief,
Thy love's return ingratitude and hate;
The limbs thou healedst brought thee no relief,
The eyes thou openedst calmly view'd thy fate:
Thou that wert wont to dwell

In peace, tongue cannot tell,
Nor heart conceive the bliss of thy celestial state.
They bound thy temples with the twisted thorn,
Thy bruised feet went languid on with pain;
The blood, from all thy flesh with scourges torn,
Deepen'd thy robe of mockery's crimson grain;
Whose native vesture bright
Was unapproached light,
The sandal of whose foot the rapid hurricane.

Low bow'd thy head convulsed, and droop'd in
death,

Thy voice sent forth a sad and wailing cry;
Slow struggled from thy breast the parting breath,
And every limb was wrung with agony.

That head, whose veilless blaze,
Fill'd angels with amase,
When at that voice sprang forth the rolling suns on
high.

We are unable to do justice to this work in the
space which the diversity of our design will allow us
in a single number; we must therefore defer the
remainder of our review until next Saturday: and
we trust, from the specimens we have given, our
readers will have no objection to meet Mr. Milman
again.

X.

FOR THE IRIS.

AN ESSAY ON THE FUNDAMENTAL OR
PRIMARY CAUSES OF THE DIVERSITY
OF STYLE.

STYLE was divided by the ancients into three
great classes, the sublime, the simple, and the inter-
mediate. The small number of these classes neces-
sarily occasioned a very great diversity among the
authors who composed each class. Such a classifi-
cation, therefore, tended rather to increase than to
lessen the difficulty of assigning to each author his
In modern times,
exact share of literary merit.
however, this subject has been treated on principles
more philosophical. It is found that every author
has a style peculiar to himself, and, of styles which
are so very different, every classification must be
incomplete. An author, therefore, is not now esti-
mated by the place which he holds in any one class ;-
he is taken by himself, and his own excellencies, and
his own defects are pointed out.

But, although it impossible to give any specific
rules for that construction of sentences which is
adapted to any one subject, it does not, therefore,
follow, that style is unworthy of philosophical en-
quiry. The great cause of the difference in the
style of authors, is, the difference of their minds; and
the philosophy of the human mind is universally
allowed to be an interesting subject. Its principles
may be most usefully applied to the investigation
of the fundamental or primary causes of the diversity
of style.

be

The causes which I am now to assigu, may called fundamental or primary, because they have always possessed much influence, and because to the m the influence of every other cause may be traced.

I. The first which I would assign is difference

of age.

The passions of a young writer being strong, he will enter with keenness into his subject. The interest which he feels in what he asserts will appear conspicuous. Not content with general terms, he

will descend to particular circumstances, and explain
them minutely. But, not only does he think it neces-
sary to state the truth; it must be stated in an inter-
The truth must not only be brought
esting manner.
forward to view, but presented in the most attractive
dress. Hence, all the figures of speech which he is
able to command, are likely to be brought forward.
More than one of them will sometimes be used, in
order to recommend a single truth. But, besides
stating every circumstance, and, in the most pleasing
form of which he is capable, he will sometimes repeat
a circumstance in another situation, which he may
think likely to give it some additional importance,
or to recommend other circumstances with which it
is connected.

As he advances in life this tendency to diffuseness
will be restrained. Having attained more vigour of
mind, he will be more able to examine his subject,
and ascertain the dependence of its different parts
upon one another. His passions, being now more in
his own power, will be less violent. Guided by
reason, they will be better proportioned to the import-
ance of the subject, and will appear to be much more
the effect of sober conviction. His style will, there-
fore, be less ornamented and more regular. Instead
of leaving us to conclude from the boldness of his
assertions, and the warmth with which they are
uttered, that his conviction is sincere, he will be
anxious rather to shew that it is well founded. Plain-
ness of statement will, therefore, be accounted by
him of far greater importance, than the ornaments of
language. He will rise gradually from those circum-
stances which he considers coolly, to those in which
he is most interested, and in which he is most anxious
to interest his readers. The importance of the sub-
ject will regulate the strength of his feelings, and
in proportion to his feelings will be the warmth of
his language. As he advances to old age, we find
a corresponding difference in his style. The pas-
sions which are strongest in youth, are most feeble
in old age.
The aged author views his subject
coolly, and expresses his thoughts with plain-
ness. Mere ornament affects him little, and he makes
little use of it to affect others. What pleases him
most is solidity of thought. That copiousness of
expression which is calculated to please the ear only,
meets not his approbation. On the contrary, he uses
no more words than he finds absolutely necessary to
express his meaning. His sentiments are often so
much crowded, that the small number of his words
is scarcely sufficient to express them. But besides
his plain and concise manner of expressing his
thoughts, he is distinguished by his manner of think-
ing. He is not able to support that patience of exa-
mination and closeness of argument, of which he
was capable in his younger years. He cannot so
deeply analyze his subject, nor so accurately deter-
mine what connexion it has with others that are
analogous.

While strength of feeling, then, and fondness of ornament characterize the young writer; and while the middle-aged is distinguished by his moderate use of ornament, by his command over his feelings, and by the vigour of his mind; we may know an aged author from a decay of sensibility and of mental vigour.

Such are the effects which difference of age produces in the style of authors. These effects are not universal, but the exceptions are few. In speaking, indeed, of the primary causes of the diversity of style, it must not be understood that one of these operates on one person, and one on another. All have some influence on every author, and the influence of each is so far counteracted by that of every other.

II. I proceed, therefore, to mention as a second cause of the diversity of style, the difference of original constitution.

It has been mentioned above, that a radical cause of the diversity of style lies in the minds of the authors. No two minds are constituted perfectly alike, therefore no two minds can perfectly resemble each other in their productions.

In all the powers of the mind men differ much. The mind of one man is penetrating while that of The penetrating another is slow of discernment.

One tongue is scanty, another copious, another dry, and another figurative. This difference arises from the particular genius of the people. On this genius,-this cast of the mind, which distinguishes the inhabitants of one country from those of another, every one of the inhabitants must in some measure participate. The genius of the language, therefore, and the cause of it-the genius of the people, must operate on every author in determining his choice of III. Another cause of this diversity, is the differ-words, his use of figures, and the cast of his sentences. ence of cultivation which the minds of different au- On this, however, it is not necessary to insist long, thors have received. since it is a difference not of individuals but of nations. It divides authors into classes, but a great difference among the individuals who compose each class is occasioned by other causes of the diversity of style, some of which have been already enumerated.

LUSUS NATURE.

SERPENTS.

A few weeks since some young ladies who had been taking a walk were accosted by a gipsy woman, who, An extraordinary female twin birth lately took for a small reward, very politely offered to show them The following singular circumstance is related in place at Soignies. Both were perfectly formed, but their future husband's faces in a pool of water that Campbell's travels, by a respectable person who was united together from the upper part of the neck to the stood near. Such an offer was too good to be refus-eye-witness to the fact: The serpent was only umbilical region. The heads, shoulders, arms, hands, ed, and, on paying the stipulated sum, the ladies hast- about twelve inches long, and not thicker than a and lower limbs were in their natural positions, and ened to the water-each in anxious expectation of man's little finger. Having found a hen's egg, the it seemed as if nothing more was necessary than to getting a glance of the beloved;' but lo! instead of little reptile gradually distended its mouth so as to out the skin to separate the bodies and make two in- beholding the form, the face,' they so fondly antici- swallow it whole. When the egg had reached the dividuals. There was but one umbilical cord.-Apated, they were surprised to see only their own rosy stomach, the serpent, by twisting himself round, still more wonderful Lusus Naturæ, on the 21st De-cheeks and sparkling eyes glancing from below. broke the egg, threw up the shell, but retained its cember, is vouched for by M. Denis, of Souilly, who 'Sure you are mistaken, woman,' exclaimed one of states, that the imagination of a female under his care them, for we see nothing but our own faces in the had been so wrought on by a deformed caricature, water.' Very true, mem,' replied the sagacious forthat she produced an infant without a head. The face tune-teller, but these will be your husband's faces was on the back of the sternum. This monster was when you are married.' still born.

ANECDOTES OF LORD ORFORD.

When Walpole quarrelled with Lord Sunderland, he went over to the opposition, and on the debate upon the capital clause in the mutiny bill, he made use of this strong expression; "Whoever gives the power of blood, gives blood." The question being carried in favour of the ministry by a small majority, Sir Robert said after the division, Faith, I was afraid that we had got the question;" his good sense (observes Mr. Seward, from whom this anecdote is quoted) perfectly enabling him to see that armies could not be kept in order without strict discipline, and the power of life and death.

Walpole had always very exact intelligence of all that was passing at the court of the Pretender. When Alderman Barber visited the minister after his return from Rome, he asked him how his old friend, the Pretender, did. The alderman was much surprised; Sir R. then related some minute particulars of a conversation which had taken place between them. "Well then, Jack," said Sir Robert, "go, and sin no more, lest a worse thing befall thee."

Walpole was accustomed to say, when speaking of corruption, "We ministers are generally called, and are sometimes, tempters, but we are oftener tempted."

ARTHUR ONSLOW.

ANECDOTE OF MILTON.

The freedom and asperity of his various attacks on the character and prerogative of the late King, rendered him peculiarly obnoxious when the Restoration was accomplished. To save himself, therefore, from the fury of a Court which he had so highly incensed, and the vigilance of which from the emissaries employed, it was become so difficult to elude, he connived with his friends in effecting the following innocent imposture. The report of his death was so industriously circulated, that the credulity of the public swallowed the bait prepared for them. The coffin, the mourners, and other apparatus of his burial were exhibited at his house, with the same formality as if he had been really dead. A figure of him, as large, and as heavy as the life, was actually formed, laid out, and put in a lead coffin, and the whole funeral solemnity acted in all its parts. It is said when the truth was known, and he was found to be alive, notwithstanding the most incontestible evidence that he had been thus openly interred, the wits about the Court of King Charles II. made themselves exceedingly merry with the stratagem by which the Poet had preserved his life. The lively and good natured Monarch discovered, too himself, not a little satisfaction, on finding that, by this ingenious expedient, his reign had not been tarnished with the blood of a man already blind by application, infirmity and age, and who, under all his dreadful misfortunes, had written Paradise Lost.

Foreigners amuse themselves with describing England as the most gloomy of all nations, and November as the month when the English have no other enjoy ment but that of hanging and drowning themselves. The real fact is, that, on a general computation, the English are less addicted to the crime of suicide than any other nation; and that as to the much-abused month of November, it is so far from being the first in the bad pre-eminence of self-murder, that it stands only seventh in the list. We refer to the following account of suicides, during the last ten years, in the city and liberty of Westminster, from 1811.

Years.

Jan.

Feb.

March

1812

2

April.
--May.

co-June.

July.

Aug.

This celebrated Speaker of the House of Commons, for the purpose of relaxing himself from the multiplied cares of his office, was in the habit of passing his evenings at a respectable country public-house, which for nearly a century was known by the name of the Jew's-harp-house, situated about a quarter of a mile north of Portland-place. He dressed himself in plain attire, and preferred taking his seat in the chimney corner of the kitchen, where he took part in the valgar jokes, and ordinary concerns of the landlord, his family and customers. He continued this practice for a year or two, and much ingratiated himself with his host and family, who, not knowing his name, called him the gentleman,' but, from his familiar manners, treated him as one of themselves. It happened, however, one day, that the landlord was walking along Parliament-street, when he met the speaker in state, going up with an address to the throne, and looking narrowly at the chief personage, he was astonished and confounded at recognizing the features of the gentleman, his constant customer. He hurried home, and communicated the extraordinary intelligence to his wife and family, all of whom were disconcerted at the liberties, which at different times they had taken, with so important a person. In the evening Mr. Onslow came as usual, and prepared to take his old seat, but found every thing in a state of peculiar preparation, and the manners of the landlord and his wife changed from indifference and familiarity to form and obsequiousness. The children were not allowed to climb upon him, and pull his wig as heretofore, and the servants were kept at a distance. He, however, took no notice of the change, but finding that his name, and rank had by some means been discovered, he paid the reckoning, civilly took his departure, and never visited the house afterwards. | felo-de-se), and 63 were females.

1813 2 1| 3|

322

1814 2 1 3 5 1 4 4 0 2033
1815 5 4 2 2 37 0 0 2 1 0
1816 0 3 4 1 0 3 3 1 3 1 0 4
1817 1 1 1 0 1 2 5 1 0 2 5 2
1818 1 1 1 1 3 0 4 1 2 1
1819 4 3 3
0 5 1 4 2 1

5

1820 4 1 5 2 1 1 2 2 1 o
1821 12 20 4 3 0 3 0 1 0 1
Tot. 21 20 25 16 14 25 33 15 15 12 17 17

Of the above, 163, were males (including four of

contents."

REPOSITORY OF GENIUS.

The position of the nine digits required in No. 3.
21914
7 513
618

The arrangement of 100 numbers required in our last.
10 92 93 7 596 498 99 1
11 19 18 84 85 86 87 13 12 90
71 29 28 77 76 75 24 23 22 80
70 62 63 37 36 35 34 68 69 31
41 52 53 44 46 45 47 58 59 60
51 42 43 54 56 55 57 48 49 50
40 32 33 67 65 66 64 38 39 61
30 79 78 27 26 25 74 73 7221
81 89 88 14 15 16 1783 82|20|
100 9 89495 697 3 2|91|

LITERARY NOTICES.

An edition of 500 copies of the British poets, in 100 volumes, royal 18mo., which has long been in preparation, is, we understand, on the eve of being published. It includes our most celebrated Poets, from Chaucer and Spenser down to Burns and Cowper, together with the standard Translations from the Classics. The lives of the authors are prefixed to their works; as far as they extend, those by Dr. Johnson are adopted; the remainder, fifty in number, are original compositions. The embellishments are proof impressions of nearly two hundred masterly engravings; and the whole of the typography executed by Whittingham.

The pair are wed, and the feast is spread
Within that bannered hall so wide;
The dance is led, and the wine blood-red
Is quaffed to the health of the bonny bride.

But the laughter loud is changed to shrieks,
The sounds of mirth are o'er;
And many a blade with slaughter reeks,
And the hall is stain'd with gore.

The wild wind raves along the waves,
That bear the bark of the bride;
And the moon riding high in the vaulted sky,
Sees it whelmed beneath the tide.
And for many a day, across the bay,

Shall the ghost of that lady glide.

Here the minstrel suddenly paused, and Ella, terrified with the prophecy respecting herself, which he had uttered, immediately turned towards home, when she was met by Sir Oscar, as before related. On The author of the Beauties, Harmonies and Sub-hearing the cause of her fright, Sir Oscar used his limities of Nature, is engaged upon a new work, utmost efforts to efface the disagreeable impressions entitled The Tablets of Memnon; or, Fragments, left on her mind, by the old man. He succeeded illustrative of the human character.' partially, by his smiles, ridicule, and reasoning, but could not wholly remove her fearful forebodings. There was still a cloud of sadness on her brow, a feeling of apprehension in her breast, and both gathered strength as the important day nearer approached. Neither was Sir Oscar, though he endeavoured, as much as possible, to conceal them, free from the same disagreeable sensations.

Capt. Manby, author of the means of saving persons from shipwreck, is about to publish, with graphic illustrations, a Journal of a Voyage to Greenland,

in 1821.

A new edition of Humboldt's Account of the Kingdom of New Spain, with additions and corrections, is announced.-L. Gaz.

SEA STORIES;

Or the Voyage and Adventures of Cyril Shenstone, Esq. his lips, as be maintained a sullen reserve to all his

Now shifted is the darkling cloud
That veils from man futurity;
Events unborn distinctly crowd
In visions on my dizzy eye:
And to the wave and rock aloud

I speak with tongue of prophecy.
For though so true, would stranger hear,
Unmixed with scorn, what says the Seer.

A joyous bridal train I sée,

Move out from yonder towers; And laughing mirth and gaiety

Have deck'd the band in flowers.

There is the bridegroom and the bride,
With many a lady fair;
And many a gallant steel-clad knight,
Attends upon the pair.

up the river, and moor her under the trees beside the red rocks; and mind me Gundulph,' said the Baron, more sternly, 'your life depends upon your secrecy.'

But to night! Sure your Lordship won't go to night.' 'Let my orders be obeyed, and instantly, or you may rue it: I am not used to be trified with. Well if your Lordship will venture, surely I may, and so I'll go with all speed.'

The other domestics of Ulric heard this dialogue in amazement. There were no guests at the Black Tower, they well knew; and they were quite at a loss to know was the meaning of a moonlight sail, on a rough stormy night, in the middle of December. In a short time however, guests began to arrive, some of which the park-ranger discovered to be notorious deer-stealers; and one of the visitors was recognized as the captain of a numerous band of robbers, that infested the neighbouring mountains, and for whose head large rewards had been frequently offered. They were all ferocious looking fellows, well armed, and received from the Baron a hearty welcome.

This had been the bridal day of Sir Oscar and Lady Ella. Their hearts had long been united in the closest union, but this day, the outward ceremony of joining hands, and plighting their vows before the altar, had been performed.

The marriage was celebrated with all pomp and splendour. It was graced by a numerous retinue of knights and ladies; who, after the ceremony, accompanied the pair to the castle, where a sumptuous banquet was prepared, to which they all sat down in high Ulric in the mean time remained in the deepest se- spirits. The rosy wine flowed profusely. The gobclusion. No one was permitted to intrude upon him let was often filled and emptied to the health and hapwithout his special order. He held no familiar inter-piness of the pair. Then was the loud laugh-the course with any of his domestics, excepting one. ready jest, and the strains of music and dancing. This was a menial in one of the lowest offices of his The hall rung with minstrelsy. Far out upon the establishment. With this man he had long and fre- ocean, the radiance of the windows gleamed upon the quent conferences, but the results never transpired surface of the dark foamy waves; and the soft strain of music, wild and irregular, was frequently beard on fellow-servants. One day, after being a long time the fitful blast. The lower orders were equally joycloseted with his master, he came down stairs in a ous, and the sparkling bowl banished care from the great hurry, saddled a horse and galloped up the heart of every one. Thus was the feast kept up till avenue, at full speed. None of the servants could midnight; when, as the bell of the castle tolled one, a conjecture the cause of his journey. The Baron, band of ferocious ruffians burst into the hall, headed after he had been gone some time, came down into by Ulric. In an instant all was horror and confusion. the ball, and by his frequent gazings out of the The lamps were exting 'ished. One part attacked window, and hurried pacings to and fro, appeared their unarmed and defenceless victims, and hacked to be in the greatest impatience for his return. It them to pieces with their swords, while the other bore began to grow dusk-he came not-and the patience the bride, struggling and shrieking, away. Ulric, saof the Baron waned fast. He quickened his step, his tiated with the blood he had spilt, drew off the ruffians brow contracted into a deeper frown, and he bitterly to the beach, where their remaining accomplices had cursed his unnecessary delay. The night wind rushed retreated to, with their unfortunate prize. The words through the forest in fearful murmurs, and the awful of the minstrel now came forcibly to the unfortunate voice of the distant thunder was heard afar off. Stili Ella's recollection, and she at once concluded that he came not. Suddenly the clattering of hoofs was her husband, father, and friends, were no more, and heard, and in a few moments the messenger entered the hall, leaving his jaded steed to the care of a fellow domestic. Ha!' said the Baron, have you not brought him.' No,' replied the fellow, 'he is out beyond the banks, and will not be in till the morning tide.' 'But I left my message with his wife, and May withering plagues seize them,' interrupted the Baron. But hast thou been to have. By heavens, 'tis Gundulph.'-At this moment another horse tramp was heard, and old Gundulph, the fisherman, entered the castle-yard, mounted on a lank bony hack. Why Gundulph,' said the Baron, 'I thought you were trauling beyond the banks, and would not be in till to morrow's tide.'Yes, your Lordship, I left that word with my dame, but as I saw the scud was coming in, and that there would be a storm, and that I should not make a good trip of it, about noon I made sail for home, and my dame told me I was wanted here directly; so I borrowed Neighbour Cogswell's blind mare, and came as fast as I could.' Right, Gundulph; and now in what sort of trim is your boat.' Why, your Lordship, a little strained and damaged in her timbers, but stout enough --barring accidents-to weather many a voyage yet.' Will she carry twenty men.' Why your Lordship, we might manage.' Well, I have a party of friends, and to night we are going to have a sail by moonlight; so you must make all speed home, and bring your boat

Eternal curses

that she should not long survive them. Ulric now
placed her on board the boat of Gundulph, the ruf-
fians embarked, and the vessel set sail up the river,
It was now dark as the grave, save when the moon, for
a moment, appeared between the huge clouds, which
were driven rapidly along the sky by the furious gale
that howled incessantly along the wide waste of
waters. The tide was ebbing, and much impeded
their course, and it was with the greatest difficulty
that they kept their vessel from upsetting.
much tossing, they, however, arrived opposite to the
old church, on the contrary bank of the river.
Here the contending elements seemed at once to con-
spire their destruction. The waves dashed furiously
against the vessel, the wind blew fearfully impetuous,
and the murkiest darkness reigned around.

After

Terror seized upon the hardiest of the villains, and the air was rent with their cries. Just at the moment when the pale moon again appeared from between two large parting clouds, there came a wave more powerful--a blast more furious than any of the former the vessel disappeared-a few faint and bubbling cries were beard from the drowning crew, and then they all sunk to rise no more.

Oh Lord!' said the Captain.

Shiver my timbers,' said Jack Brindle but that's a queer trick.'

That's all a most infernal lie,' said the Captain,