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desirous of having instantly decided: to prolong the debate, and, if possible, to procure an adjournment of it, was the object of his adversaries; with this view, they introduced a personal charge against him. To justify himself was not easy; it evidently would have required a long and unpleasant debate, and thus would, even although he succeeded, have occasioned the delay which he dreaded. In these straights, the genius of the Cardinal did not desert him. As one, confident of success, he rose from his seat,---and thus addressed the auditory :--. In the present state of affairs, I neither can nor ought to answer this calumny in any other manner, than by rendering the same testimony to · myself, which, in similar circumstances, the Roman orator rendered to himself, in these 'words :--- In difficilimis reipublicæ temporibus, urbem numquam deserui; in prosperis, nihil de publico delibavi; in desperatis, nihil timui.'In the most difficult times of the ⚫ republic, I never deserted the state; in her most prosperous fortune, I never tasted of ⚫ her sweets; in her most desperate circumstances, I knew not fear.'' It is the Cardinal's own observation, that this sentence has in the original a charm, which no translation can impart. It produced such an effect on the assembly, as permitted him, with their full acquiescence, to step over the accusation, and to fix the attention of his hearers on the point to which he wished it confined. He succeeded beyond his hopes: he appeared another Scipio, leading the admiring multitude from the tribunes, to the capitol. The quotation was in the mouth of every one :-but in what part of Cicero's works was it to be found?--It was in vain to search for it: the Cardinal himself had invented it, on the moment."

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MR. SHERIDAN.

"It has not, I think, been mentioned by any of his biographers; but the fact certainly is, that Mr. Sheridan was very superstitious, a believer in dreams and omens. One sentiment of true religion the Reminiscent has often heard him express, with evident satisfaction; that in all his writings, and even in his freest moments, a single irreligious opinion or word had never escaped him.

"Frequently, he instantaneously disarmed those who approached him with the extreme of savageness, and a determined resolution to insult him. He had purchased an estate, at Surrey, of Sir William Geary, and neglected to pay for it. Sir William mentioned this circumstance to the Reminiscent; and the English language has not an expression of abuse or opprobrium, which Sir William did not apply to Sheridan. He then marched off, in a passion; but had not walked ten paces, before he met Mr. Sheridan. The Reminiscent expected as furious an onset as if two planets should rush to combat *;' but nothing like this took place. In ten minutes Sir William returned, exclaiming, 'Mr. Sheridan is the finest fellow I ever met with; I will teaze him no more for money.''

INSCRIPTION

On a pillar in an open field near Stralsund, to the memory of Major Schill.

"Who rests this nameless mound beneath,

Thus rudely pil'd upon the heath?
Naked to winds, and waters sweep,
Does here some gloomy outcast sleep?

Yet many a footstep freshly round

Marks it as lov'd, as holiest, ground.

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Review.

The Gondola. Lupton Relfe.

This work bears, upon the whole, a favorable testimony to the talent and taste of its author; though some of its pages may witness to his occasional neglect of these advantages. He has enriched his volume with some touches of nature, and a great many poetical prettinesses of thought and diction; but he has too frequently condescended to employ the flimsy and well-worn materials, which booksellers are in the habit of working into substitutes for genuine sentiment and delineation of real character. We remark, also, a tendency to the introduction of gloomy and horrible pictures, which we greatly disapprove in a work like the present. Terror and pity cannot be beneficially called into action, during a tale of only thirteen or fourteen pages. There is not time to produce an irresistible or permanent impression. The bare relation of a fearful or distressing incident, is no more an improving study for the mind, than a stumble from an accidental obstruction in the middle of an even road, is a salutary exercise for the body. The shock is disagreeable for one moment; in another, we recover our equanimity and our equilibrium, without being obliged to turn for relief to soothing and elevating considerations, in the former instance; and, in the latter, without feeling stimulated to additional exertion or greater weariness in our future progress. We particularly object to the incident which occurs near the conclusion of the book: a blemish considered only with respect to composition; for it is quite out of keeping with the other parts of the narrative to which it belongs. Moreover, the very newspapers do not record a suicide without stigmatising it as a rash act;" and, though we do not pretend to outrageous morality, even this slight and accustomed censure acquires value and veneration, in our eyes, when opposed to the singular sang froid with which this writer, in relating a story of self-destruction, has abstained from all condemnation of the act itself. Self-destruction, too, arising from a cause the most frivolous and inadequate; a disappointment in love. But we will not afford our author an excuse for emulating his hero, in the unmitigated severity of our criticism. We like his fancy and vivacity well enough to be desirous of parting from him with pleasantness. We beg, therefore, to express much approbation of the first journey of Karl, and his horse Nicolaus. We remember to have met, and been amused, with it before. The following Stanzas, though liable, in a trifling degree, to some of our previously-stated objections, appear to us very touching and pretty.

STANZAS TO

"A vision cross'd me as I slept,
A vision unallied to pain;

And, in my day-dreams, it has kept
Possession of my heart and brain.

It is a portion of my soul,

And, if the soul may never die,

That vision, now, is past control,

And shares its immortality.

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It took a form that time may change
In others' eyes, but not in mine,
For coldness-hate-cannot estrange
My still unshaken heart from thine.
I saw thee, then, as I have seen

The cherish'd one of earlier years:
Ere pale suspicion came between

Our hearts, and poison'd both with fears.

I heard thee speak, and felt the tone-
Of welcome o'er my spirit steal;
As if our souls had never known

What those who part in coldness feel.
Thy band, to mine, in fondness clung,
And when I met its shrilling press,
I almost deem'd it had a tongue,

That whispered love and happiness.

'Tis said, that dreams may herald truth;

But dreams like these are worse than rain;

For what can bring back vanish'd youth,
Or love's unshaded hours again?
They do but mock us-giving scope

To joys, from which we wake and part;

And then are lost the hues of hope,

The rainbow of the clouded heart.

They are the spirits of the past,

That haunt the chambers of the mind;
Recalling thoughts too sweet to last,
And leaving blank despair behind.
They are like trees from stranger bow'rs,
Transplanted trees, that take not root;
Young buds that never come to flow'rs;
Frail blossoms, that ne'er turn to fruit.

They are like wily fiends, who bring
The nectar we might joy to sip,
And yell in triumph as they fling
The goblet from our fervid lip.
They are like ocean's faithless calm,
That with a breath is rous'd to strife,
Or hollow friendship's proffer'd balm,
Polluting all the springs of life.

I thought we met at silent night,

And roam'd, as we were wont to roam,

And pictur'd, with a fond delight,
The pleasure of our future home:

That home, our hearts may never share,
'Tis lost to both for ever now;
The tree of hope lies wither'd-bare,
Without a blossom, leaf, or bough.

To words-vain words-no pow'r is giv'n,
The torments of my soul to tell;

I slept, and had a dream of heav'n-
I woke and felt the pangs of hell.

Yet, I would not forget thee-No!
Though thou hast wither'd hope in me-

Nor for a world of joys forego

The one sweet joy of loving thee."

Personal Narrative of a Journey from India to England, by Bussorah, Bagdad, the Ruins of Babylon, Curdistan, the Court of Persia, the Western Shore of the Caspian Sea, Astrakhan, Nishney Novogorod, Moscow, and St. Petersburgh, in the year 1824. By Captain the Hon. George Keppel. Second Edition. 2 vols. 8vo. Colburn. 1827.

We may say of Captain Keppel's work, that its value (or rather its merits) arise entirely from the interesting portions of his journey. As to genius or talent,---we will not do this gentleman the injustice to reproach him with any. Our opinion is, that the narrative is more calculated to compose the contents of a letter to a father and a family circle, than to meet the eye of a less interested audience. The traveller's observations are quite in the easy, colloquial style; betraying neither much discernment nor stupidity :---in fact, we are rather inclined to consider the gallant captain a man gifted with the ordinary capacities. We have taken the most interesting extract we could find, from each volume.

"Half an hour before sunset we arrived at a village of wandering Arabs. One of the men, a wild-looking savage, on seeing us approach, ran forwards in a frantic manner, and throwing down his turban at our feet, fiercely demanded Buxis (a present). He was made to replace his turban, but continued screaming as if distracted. This fellow's noise, and our appearance, soon collected a crowd of men, women, and children; the greater number had evidently never seen an European before. The men advanced close to us with aspects far from friendly. The commander of our guard expressed a wish that we should not enter the village; but so ardent was our curiosity in this our first interview with the Arabs of the Desert, that we disregarded his advice. Seeing us resolved, he let us have our own way; but would not allow any of the people to approach, being doubtful of their intentions towards us.

"The village was a collection of about fifty mat huts, with pent roofs, from thirty to sixty feet long. The frame of the huts somewhat resembled the ribs of a ship inverted. It was formed of bundles of reeds tied together; the mat covering was of the leaves of the date tree. An old Mussulman tomb stands on a mound at the south end of the village, and is the only building in which any other material than reed and date-leaves have been employed.

"When we reached the banks of the river, we had to wait for our boat, which was tracking round a headland, and was still at some distance from us: so we stood with our backs to the water to prevent any attack from the rear. In the mean time, crowds of the inhabitants continued to press forward. As their numbers were greatly superior to ours, and their demeanour rather equivocal, we tried by our manners to show as little distrust of them as possible; not so our guards, who, from being of the same profession as these marauders, treated them with less ceremony, and stood by us the whole time with their guns loaded and cocked, their fingers on the triggers, and the muzzles presented towards the crowd. Some of the Arabs occasionally came forward to look at our fire-arms, particularly our double-barrelled guns, but whenever they attempted to touch them, were always repulsed by our guard, who kept them at a distance. In the midst of this curious interview, the sheikh, or chief of the village, a venerable-looking old man with a long white beard, came, accompanied by two others, and brought us a present of a sheep; for which, according to custom, we gave double its value in money. The sheikh's arrival, and our pecuniary acknowledgment of his present, seemed to be an earnest of amity, as the crowd, by his directions, retired to a small distance, and formed themselves into a semicircle---himself and his two friends sitting about four yards in front.

"The scene to us was of the most lively interest. Around us, as far as the eye could reach, was a trackless desert; to our left was the rude village of the wanderers, and

immediately in the foreground were their primitive inhabitants, unchanged, probably, in dress, customs, or language, since the time of the wild man' Ishmael, their ancestor. There was little variety in the dress of the men---a large brown shirt with open sleeves, extending to the knee, and bound round the loins with a leathern girdle, formed their principal, and sometimes only, habiliment; a few wore the handkerchief or turban. They were armed either with long spears or massive clubs. The dress of the females was also a loose shirt, but not being bound at the waist, it left the person considerably exposed. Some of the women had rings in their noses, others wore necklaces of silver coins, and the hair of several of the girls was divided into long plaits, and completely studded with coins: they were all more or less tattooed on the face, hands, and feet, and some were marked on the ancles with punctures resembling the clock of a stocking.

"This village is called Goomruk, and its inhabitants are notorious robbers; they are subject to the sheikh of Montefeikh. It is customary to exact a stipulated tribute from every boat that passes; this, after some conversation, we paid, and (our people not wishing to stay) we proceeded on our voyage, having much better luck than a boat we left here, with horses for the Pasha of Basra, which, not being strong enough to resist the demand, was detained for an additional exaction. Five boats which had left Bussorah a week before us, had proceeded that morning on their voyage to Bagdad.

"We continued our voyage while moonlight lasted, and then anchored till daybreak. At nine in the evening we passed an Arab encampment, pitched so close to the bank that our track-rope damaged several of the tents. This occasioned an uproar from a crowd of men, women, children, and dogs. They all rushed out together to discover the cause of the disturbance. On our guard's calling out Abdillah, their chief's name, we were welcomed from the shore, as a friendly tribe, with an assurance that they would send off milk, butter, and whatever else their camp could furnish.

"March 10.---We now came in sight of the Hamerine Mountains, to the north-east. At a little before daylight, we passed a building, called Il Azer (Ezra), reported by tradition to be the tomb of that prophet. It is surmounted by a large doom covered with glazed tiles of a turquoise color. The tomb is held in high veneration both by Jews and Mahometans, and is said to contain great riches---the offerings of pilgrims, particularly those of the former persuasion.

“We saw numerous encampments of the wandering tribes, many of whom brought us milk, butter, and dates, and appeared to be most kindly disposed towards ourselves and crew.

"Three of our party went out shooting in the Desert, and had excellent sport. Hares, black partridges, and snipes, were in the greatest abundance. For my own share of the game, I claim a brace of partridges, not a little proud, that nearly the first birds which ever fell by my gun, should bave been killed in the garden of Eden. Another of our party killed a hare, but the boatmen objected to our, having it dressed on board, as it had not undergone the ceremony of being made hulaul (lawful). This is performed by repeating a prayer, and by cutting the throat of the animal, with the neck placed towards the tomb of Mahomet. Yet, according to the Jewish law, from which nearly all Mahometan prohibitions respecting food are taken, the hare is an unclean animal, 'because he cheweth the cud, and divideth not the hoof.'*

"At two P. M., we passed the residence of Sheikh Abdillah Bin Ali, an Arab chief. As we continued our shooting excursion over a desert tract, unmarked by human habitation, we approached a boy tending cattle, who, immediately on perceiving us, set up a loud cry, and ran with all his might to a small mound, so gradually elevated, as to be scarcely perceptible to us. In an instant, like the dragon's teeth which Cadmus sowed, a large body of men, armed with spears, appeared on the brow of the hill, and seemed to have grown out from the till then unpeopled spot. The men set up a loud shout, in which they were joined by the women and children, who now made their appearance. All, with one accord, rushed impetuously towards us, demanding the nature of our intentions; they were no sooner assured of our pacific disposition, than their clamour ceased, and in two minutes we were on the most friendly terms.

“A little after this, several women, accompanied by a host of children, brought

✦ “For the circumstance of the hare chewing the cud, vide Levit. chap. xi., and also the account given by Cowper of his three hares."

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