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The next is in a different strain, but we think scarcely which, however, we verily believe, is surpassed by the inferior. Here it is

twelfth, “ Gang to the brakens wi' me.” We have

heard the Shepherd sing this song himself, and though THERE'S NAE LADDIE COMING.

he has nearly as little voice as ever man had, he has an There's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean, excellent ear, and a warm heart, and a soul sparkling There's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean; in his bright grey eye,--and these, together with the I have watch'd you at mid-day, at morn, and at e'en, best lungs in Yarrow, carry everything before them, An' there's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean. and secure one of the most rapturous encores that ever But be nae down-hearted tho' wooers gang by,

issued from the palms of the hands. Nevertheless, we Thou'rt my only sister-thy brother am I;

must reserve the only space we have left for the thir. An'ay in my wee house thou welcome shalt be,

teenth song, in which the words and the air are so ad. An' while I hae saxpence I'll share it wi' thee.

mirably adapted to each other, that we are certain a O Jeanie, dear Jeanie, when we twa were young,

single verse, if sung by a Scotch regiment on the eve of I sat on your knee, to your bosom I clung

an engagement, would make that regiment more than a You kiss'd me and clasp'd me, and eroon d your bit sang, Congreve is knighted and pensioned for inventing a new

match for the whole army of the enemy. If Sir William An' bore me about when you hardly dought gang ; An' when I fell sick, wi' a red watery ee

sort of rocket, what ought Hogg not to be for supply. You watch'd o'er your billy, and fear'd he wad dee; ing his countrymen with strains, which, in the day of I fand your cauld hand often laid on my brow,

battle, would be more dreaded than a thousand rockets? An' the sweet kiss o' kindness impress'd on my mow. No man could ever be defeated who had taught his na

tive mountains to echo
Sae wae was my young heart to see my Jean weep,
I closed my sick ee tho' I was nae asleep;

THE GATHERING OF THE CLANS.
It was then that I mark'd a' thy kindness for me,
Oh, what do I owe, my dear sister, to thee !

There's news come over the Highlands yestreen,
Then be nae down-hearted, for nae lad can feel

Will soon gar bonnets and broadswords keen, Sic true love as I do, or ken ye sae weel;

And philabegs short, and tartans green, My heart it yearns o'er thee, an' grieved wad I be

Shine over the shore in the morning. Ifaught were to part my dear Jeanie an' me.

He comes ! he comes ! our spirits to cheer,

To cherish the land he holds most dear; The fourth song, “ I downa laugh, I dəwna sing," To banish the reiver, the base deceiver, we abstain from quoting, only because we intend quo- And raise the fame of the Clans for ever: ting one or two others. The fifth and sixth, “ Ye Our Prince is landed in Moidart Bay; breezes that spring in some land unknown," and " The Come raise the clamour of bagpipes' yamour, Souters o' Selkirk,” are good ; but we like the seventh And join our lov'd Prince in the morning. still betier, which is an excellent specimen both of the Shepherd's quiet humour and sound morality. It is Come, brave Lochiel, the honour be thine, called

The first in royal array to shine;

If bold Clan- Ronald and thee combine,
TIE LADIES'EVENING SONG.

Then who dare remain in the morning!

Glengarry will stand, with arm of steel,
O the glass is no for you,

And Keppoch is blood from head to heel;
Bonnie laddie, 0,

The whiggers of Skye may gang to the deil,
The glass is no for you,

When Connal, and Donald, and gallant Clan-Ronald,
Bonnie laddie, 0;

Are all in the field, and know not to yield, -
The glass is no for you,

Are all in array, and hasting away
For it paints your manly brow,

To welcome their Prince in the morning.
An' it fills you roaring fou,
Bonnie laddie, 0.

The Appin will come, while coming is good;
Then drive us not away wi' your drinking, 0,

The stern M'Intosh is of trusty blood;
We like your presence mair than you're thinking, O,

M'Kenzie and Fraser will come at their leisure,
How happy would you be
In our blithsome company,

The whiggers of Sutherland scorning.

The Atholmen keen as fire from steel;
Taking innocence and glee

M.Pherson for Charlie will battle the deil;
For your drinking, O.

The hardy Clan-Dunnoch is up in the Rvnnoch;

M‘Lean and M'Gregor are rising with vigour,
Now your een are glancing bright,

Unawed by the pride of haughty Argyle;
Bonnie laddie, 0,

And lordly Drummond is belted, and coming
Wi' a pure and joyfu' light,

To join his lov'd Prince in the morning.
Bonnie laddie, o,
But at ten o'clock at night,

Come a' that are true men, steel to the bane!
Tak a lady's word in plight,

Come a' that reflect on the days that are gane!
We will see another sight,

Come a' that have breeks, and a' that have nane,
Bonnie laddie, 0.

And a' that are bred unto scorning!
There's a right path and a wrang, bonnie laddie, 0,

Come Moidart and Moy, M'Gun and M‘Craw;
An' ye needna argue lang, bonnie laddie, 0;

M'Dugalds, M.Donalds, M‘Devils, and a';
For the mair you taste an' see
Of our guileless company,

MÓDuffs and M.Dumpies, M‘Leods and M‘Lumpies,

With claymores gleaming, and standards streaming;
Ay the happier you will be,

Coine swift as the roe, for weal or for woe,
Bonnie laddie, 0.

That whigs in their error may quake for terror,

To see our array in the morning. The eighth is entitled " An Arabian Song ;" but we like our author best when he keeps on the north

These select and rare Scottish Melodies ought to be side of the Tweed; the air, composed by Bishop, is found among the music of every true Scottish family, simple and beautiful, but strikes us as being a little out and ought to be sung continually by all our “ fair woof place. “. Come, row the boat" is a Highland air, and

men and brave men.” There is the freshness of the the words, as they should be, are gallant and warlike, country

about them ;—the wild luxuriance of the land Appie M'Gie,” is admirable, and only equalled by the eleventh, “ The broom sae green,

“ Where blooms the red heather and thistle sae green."

The tenih song,

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Foreign Tales and Traditions, chiefly selected from the ar, there is a lofty mountain, on the top of which ap

Fugitive Literature of Germany. By George G. pears one of those small but unfathomable lakes which Cunningham. In 2 vols. 12mo. Blackie, Fullar- are so frequently found in such situations in Germany. ton, and Co. ; Glasgow. (Unpublished.)

Popular superstition has connected the following plea. A very striking peculiarity of German literature is sing legend with the lake of Wimpfen :the immense proportion which its works of fiction bear the lake, wreathing a coronal for himself out of the love.

* A beautiful boy was once seated upon the shores of to its other departments. This, probably, arises from the vast multitude of traditions and legends with which y flowers which grew upon its banks. He was quite every corner of Germany,—as is the case with most alone, and ever and anon he raised his blue eyes, and countries abounding in the picturesque,—is crowded, gazed with childish longing across the glittering waters especially along the majestic course of the Rhine, and for a little boat in which to sail about over the iranquil among the terrific scenery of the Harz Mountains. To expanse; but the boy beheld nothing like a boat save a the awakening genius of Germany, determined to de- single plank of wood, which moved to and fro on the tiny viate from the old and worn-out classical models, these

waves as they rippled towards the shore, and which, wild legends, which were the only other materials of li though it might have afforded a slight support in swin. terature, out of itself, that were within its power, seem to ming, could not carry him to the other side of the lake.

" The boy raised his longing looks once more, and have suggested that general tone of romance, and that passion for fictitious writing, which is so conspicuous in

was astonished to perceive three snow-white swans sail. German literature. And it is not to be denied, that, in ing proudly up and down in the middle of the lake. At consequence of this, there belongs, in general, to the last the stately birds approached where the boy lay, who, German romance, an air of freshness, and native vigour, of bread from his pocket and fed them ; they seemed to

delighted with his new companions, drew some crumbs which is wanting in those literatures in which this spe- him so tame,-they looked so gentle,—and came so near cies of composition is more of an exotic. We can believe more easily in marvels and prodigies beside the to the shore, that the delighted boy thought to catch one Rhine than on the Thames or the Seine, and feel as if of them; but when he stooped down with this design, their combination there with human agency were less they moved gently away, and remained beyond his reach, unnatural than elsewhere. And as the power of attrac- although, in his anxiety, he nearly suspended his whole tion in fictitious literature is always in proportion to our

body above the deep lake, on the lowermost branch of a sense of its appropriateness and naturalness, we do not

young poplar, which grew upon the bank. wonder that if romance we must have-German ro

“ The tamer the three beautiful birds appeared to the mance, of all others, should have been so popularly at.

boy, and the oftener that they baffled his attempts to tractive,-independently of the intrinsic merit of the catch them, the more eager he became to secure them for works, or the actual genius of their authors.

himself. He drew the plank from the water,-launched But we are speculating too much on a theme more

it again, balanced himself with caution upon it,mand, general than the character of the work which is waiting light from the shore, and, making use of his hands as

finding it supported bim, pushed off with a shout of defor our opinion, and the object of which is to afford entertainment, and not to give occasion to theory. With oars, rowed fearlessly after the swans. the exception of a brief, but elegantly written Preface, him, but ever beyond his reach, until he had gained the

" The beautiful birds kept sailing immediately before it is unencumbered by any antiquarian annotations - middle of the lake. He now felt his strength exhaustany critical or chronological arrangement,—by which ed, and for the first time became seized with excessive editors sometimes attempt, preposterously, to give a seemingly grave and scientific form to what, in reality, terror, when he beheld nothing near or around him but

Meanwhile the three swans kept chey mean to be a book of mere amusement. Considered the glittering waters. in this light, we esteem the “ Tales and Traditions”a sailing around him in contracting circles, as if they work entitled to be, and likely to prove, very popular. when he beheld them so near to him, forgot his danger,

wished to calm his rising alarms; but the gallant boy, They are chiefly selected from the less known and trodden walks of German fiction, the editor having avoided the and hastily stretched out his hand to grasp the nearest, greater works of celebrated authors, and having sought and down he sank into the deep blue waters !

when, alas ! his unsteady raft yielded to the impulse, his materials chiefly in fugitive and traditional litera. ture. Out of these materials he has composed a melange, found himself lying upon a couch, in a magniticent cas

“ When the boy recovered from a long trance, he distinguished, in our opinion, not only for the individual merit of the various pieces, but for the judicious combina tle, and before him stood three maidens of marvellous tion of the whole,-iheentertaining mixture of pure fiction

beauty. and popular tradition, and the grateful succession of the

How came you hither ?' inquired one of them, comic, the marvellous, and the pathetic, which it presents. taking him by the hand with a sweet smile. The translation is executed, on the whole, with great felici, boy. "I only remember that I once wished to catch

66 I know not what has happened to me,' replied the ty, and great command of conversational English, though three beautiful swans which were sailing upon the lake, we observe here and there a few Scotticisms; and though and that I sank in the deep deep waters.' we could desire that most of our translators from the Ger. man,—those at least who translate for the public amuse

• • Will you stay with us ?? asked one of the maidens. ment, would allow themselves a little more liberty in

Here you are most welcome ; but this know, that it deviating from literal exactness in the rendering of fo you remain three days with us, you can never again rereign idioms and phrases.

turn to your father's house ; for, after that period, you It is, of course, impossible for us to give specimens would no longer be able to breathe the air of the world sufficient, in number and variety, to afford a just repre

above, and you would therefore die.' sentation of a collection, one of whose principal merits looked like sisters, moved the boy, and inspired his

“ The kindness of the three beautiful maidens, who is its entirely miscellaneous character. We shall gratify

• Yes,' he exclaimed, our readers with one specimen of the striking and beau- guileless breast with confidence. tiful traditions with which the work abounds, one leaping up joyfully from his .couch, yes, I will rewhich appears to have been finished with particular care

main with you ! in the original , and rendered with peculiar elegance in their magnificent fairy palace. The splendour of the

“ The lovely sisters now led the wondering boy through the translation. It is entitled

apartments dazzled his astonished senses. Nursed in

poverty, and accustomed only to the simple furniture of Nigh to Wimpfen, a town situated upon the Neck- his father's cot, he was now overwhelmed by the mag.

THE THREE SWANS.

FIRST VOICE.

SECOND VOICE.

a

nificence which surrounded him; the walls and floors of every room were curiously inlaid with gold and silver ;

The home of my childhood, how brightly it shines there were pearls as large as walnuts, and diamonds the 'Mid the dreary darkling past ! size of eggs, and red gold in bars, and such a profusion There the sunlight of memory never declines, of wealth and of objects of inconceivable beauty as the Still green is its valley,—still green are its vines. peasant's son had never dreamt of, even when he lay on What charms hath inemory cast the banks of the lake, and gazed upwards on the deep

Around thy father's cot? blue heavens towards the dwellings of the angels. In the .gardens which surrounded this enchanted palace

Oh the home of my childhood was wild and rude grew fruits and flowers lovelier far than he had ever be

In the depth of an Alpine solitude; held ; the apples were as large as a child's head, and the

But dearer to me and fairer far plums the size of ostrich eggs, and the cherries like bil. Its rocks and dells and streamlets are, liard balls, and the flowers of marvellously varied forms Than the thousand vales of the noble Rhine ! and beauty ; sweet birds filled the air with their merry Hast thou so dear a home? warblings,-the little streamlets seemed to murmur music as they meandered through the emerald meads,

THIRD VOICE. and the zephyrs which played amid his hyacinthine

Far, far away, in the twilight grey, locks, were more odorous than those of Araby, or the

My spirit loves to roa m, Spicy islands of the East.

To one sweet spot, oh ne'er forgot !

My childhood's home. “ The boy had often read of Paradise, and now he thought : . This is surely Paradise ; and I am happy

FOURTH VOICE. here!'

The eagle lent me his wing of pride, “ Weeks and months passed thus away, and still the

And away with him I flew, youthful stranger remained unconscious of their flight; O'er many a land and ocean wide, for a perpetual succession of new objects occupied his

To a vale my childhood knew. attention; and while roaming beneath the orange-trees with their golden fruit, he never thought of the broad

« When the fourth voice had died softly away in the oak which stretched its sheltering arms above his father's distance, the boy-whose young heart now heaved till it hut.

was like to burst with wild and uncontrollable longings “But at last, when nearly a whole year was gone, the to return to his father's home-heard the rush of heavy mortal inhabitant of this enchanted region was suddenly wings passing near him, and looking up he beheld a seized with an irrepressible longing to return to his na.

beautiful snow.white eagle, with a golden crown upon tive village.

Nothing pleased him now,—nothing any its head, and a collar of rubies, alight near to him on longer gratified his boyish fancy, the flowers had lost the meadow. The noble bird looked with a friendly eye their beauty to his pensive eye,—the melody of the upon him, and he heard another voice singing faintly streams, and the songs of the birds fell tunele:s on his and far off, these words : listless ear,—the sky above him appeared far less beau. tiful than that on whose reflected hues he had so often

The eagle is a bird of truth,

And bis wing is swift and strong. gazed as he lay on the banks of the deep lake,—but when he thought of the words of the beautiful maidens, “ The boy, moved by a strong and momentary imwho had assured him that return to the light of another pulse, sprung to his feet and ran towards the noble bird, world was impossible after the third day's sojourning in which bent its crowned head and stretched out its long this enchanted region, he hid his secret sorrow in his in- wings as if to salute him on his approach ; but he now most soul, and only gave vent to his grief when he discovered that the eagle's strong talons were fixed in a thought the thick shades of the garden concealed him swan, which lay beneath him, and which he knew to be from observation. Much he strove, when the three kind one of those which he had seen swimming on the lake sisters approached him, to appear happy and cheerful as near Wimpfen. Then the manly boy seized a branch of formerly, but he could not conceal the grief which was a tree, and with it drove away the cruel eagle from the preying within ; and when they kindly inquired what swan. No sooner had he performed this grateful acailed bim, he tried to account for his altered appearance tion, than he suddenly beheld the three lovely sisters and demeanour by various excuses and pretences of bad from whom he had just been longing to make his escape,

standing before him, and smiling so sweetly and mildly “ One day as he lay in the light of the setting sun, upon him, that he felt ashamed of his wish to leave upon the green banks of a limpid stream, though all na- then secretly, and hung down his head blushing deeply. ture around him appeared charming, rich, and luxuri- “ Then one of them spoke : •We know thy thoughts, ous, and the air was filled with fragrance, and the birds dear youth, and what it is that moves thee so deeply Sang their evening-song, and on the meadow before him And though we are sorry to part with thee, yet as thou were some cheerful labourers, singing cheerfully while hast proved thyself so faithful towards us, thy secret de

at work, he felt that all this beauty and melody wanted sire shall be granted, and to-morrow thou shalt behold something without which they could minister no happi- thy father, and mother, and brethren, and sisters.' ness to his longing soul. His father's hut suddenly “ The poor boy stood mute before his kind benefac. fose in lively colours before his fancy; he saw his be tresses ; he wept because he was about to part with loved mother weeping bitterly at the door, and he knew them, and he also wept when he thought how long he

that it was for him she wept; and he beheld all his long- had tarried away from his home ; all night he tossed forgotien companions with their familiar faces standing about

on a restless couch, unable to resolve

on departing, around his mother, and heard them calling his name and equally unable to reject the offer which had been aloud as if in sorrow : and then the poor boy sobbed made to him by his kind and lovely friends. At last aloud and wept

bitterly with his face nid in the tall sleep sank down on his weary eyelids, and when he grass. As he lay in this posture he heard a clear voice awoke the following morning, he found himself lying singing in the distance, and as he listened the sounds on the shore of the well-known lake. He looked upon *axed more audible, and seemed to float nearer him the waters and beheld the three swans sailing at a líule through the still air.' Again they died away in the dis- distance from him; but when

he stretched his hands tocance, and again they approached towards him, until he wards them, as if to say that he wished again to join

sung apparently by them, they beckoned in a friendly manner to him, and

then diving beneath the surface, re-appeared not again.

health.

different and separated voices :

“ All was pleasure and astonishment when the long-friends are in the midst of the happiness which the dis. lost boy again presented himself in his native village. covery occasions, when Augustin, a hermic, comes to His friends and companions assembled around him and inform the unfortunate father and mother that their son, heard his wonderful story ; but none believed it. Fritz, who had gone upon a visit to his grandfather, had

“ But after the first greetings were over, and his first fallen down one of the clefts of the rocks, and had been transports of joy on finding himself again restored to his killed. It is to Werner that Augustin first communi. parents and youthful companions had subsided, the boy cates these tidings ; and, as the scene in which he does was seized with a secret longing to return to the un- so appears to us the best written in the poem, we shall known land; and this desire grew more vehement every extract the greater part of it, as the fairest specimen we day. He would now wander about the shores of the can select :lake from sunrise till the stars appeared in the nightly heavens; but the three swans never returned, and the

AUGUSTIN–walks in with deep seriousness, dignity,

and feeling. He makes the sign of the crosspoor boy wept and sighed in vain for those Elysian fields in which it had once been permitted him to wander. Praised be Jesus Christ !

WERNER.-EternallyHis cheeks now grew pale as the withered rose, his eye became dim and languid, his bounding limbs grew more

(Gives him his hand.)

How art thou, father? Thou art paler than feeble every day, and all joy left his bosom. One even.

Is usual, and thou tremblest ! ing he had dragged himself with much difficulty to the AUGUSTIN.-It is ageshore of the lake,—the evening sun threw its last ra.

For I am near the grave. But 'tis not fear.diance on the waters,—and he heard a sweet silver-like Werner, I fear not death -- I love him much. voice, which seemed to rise from the blue depth beneath 'Tis but my soul, which tremblingly shakes off him, singing these verses :

The dust of earth from her immortal wings.

WERNER-Think not so often of thy death, oh father-
Thou who hast roam'd through

Death will come soon enough : true, thou art old;
The bright world below,

But winter blooms beneath thy locks of snow.
What joy can thy bosom

Augustin.—Think seriously, steward. Look beneath,
On earth ever know?

With eyes attentive, on the holy deep ;

Roots strike below, and weeds are on the surface :
Dost thou dread the blue wave?

Accustom thou thyself to see in darkness
Thou hast tried it before,-

Light; look thou in the cave till thou discover
One plunge in its bosom

The shining portal of eternal life.
Thy sorrows are o'er !

For birth is but the door of vanities;
" The voice had died away in the distance, but the The key of life is faith-the gate the grave.

There dost thou err in vain, thy passions' slaveboy now stood close on the margin of the lake, gazing WERNER.-I am not godless. intently upon it, as if his eye sought to measure its pro- AUGUSTIN.-No, I say not that; found depth. He turned round and cast one look upon Thou'rt good, but yet I fear too worldly, Werner, his father's cot, and he thought that he heard his mo- And lovest far too inuch this passing life. ther's voice calling him through the still evening; but WERNER.- My God hath made me happy. Should again the soft silver-like voice rose up from the bosom

I be of the placid waters, and he knew it to be the voice of A Christian, were I not to thank him for it? one of the three fairy sisters : •Adieu, adieu, dear mo.

Augustin.— The joys, which sometimes here our God ther!' he cried, and, with a shout of mingled joy and are only trials, meant to win the heart,

allows, fear, flung himself headlong into the fathomless waters, By slow degrees, to prudence and to patience. which closed around him for ever."

If I should wish to be in Heaven, when grief This work is printed in a small but very distinct type, Bows my sad spirit down, that is no virtue;and, altogether, forms two very handsome volumes, con. Who doth not wish himself estranged from sorrows? taining maiter sufficient for twice the bulk, according to

But first to taste of happiness like Job, the ordinary style of getting up. We have been en

And then with patience to submit to fate; abled to peruse it previous to its publication, which To lose the dearest and the costliest, will take place in a few days, and which will afford, un. And then to say, while tears stream from the less we are mistaken, a very acceptable New-year’s treat That, Werner, is a Christian's part.

“ God gave, and takes away, his name be praised;" to those who are fond of the choice little nick-nacks and

Werner-takes his hand with frankness) confections of fugitive literature.

But tell me
Openly, friend :- I too would speak a little

In thy own figures : is it good in thee
The Shepherd Boy, a Dramatic Idyl. Translated from And asking, when thou see'st a cheerful flower,

Foretelling sorrow like the midnight owl?
the German of Adam Oehlenschlaeger. Edinburgh. " Why dost thou smell so sweet, and lift thy stem
William Blackwood. 1828.

So tall and proud in the air of heaven? We are not sure that the intrinsic excellence of “ The Say, Augustin, is this a Christian's part?

Soon thou shalt fade away and turn to dust." Shepherd Boy" is such as to entitle it to the honour now conferred upon it, by introducing it to the British pub.

Augustin.-Oh hear me, friend, nor thus misunderlic in an English dress, and as a separate work. It is Did all thy happiness rest on thy God, a pastoral poem containing some very pretty thoughts, And if thy house were founded on a rock, expressed in natural and simple language; but there is If thou wouldst quench thy thirst for joys of earth little that is very original or striking, either in the story In the true spring of life eternal—then as a whole, or in the individual passages. The plot is How gladly would I share thy happiness! extremely inartificial, except in one incident. Reinald, But when the false appearance of a moment, a traveller, arrives in a Swiss valley, where he meets, Where danger and destruction ever lurk, and is captivated with Babli, a young shepherdess and Darkens thine earthly eyes, can I rejoice ? an orphan. She introduces him to Werner, a farmer, and we thank thee, and we prize thy friendship much :

Werner.-Well, let it rest, - Thou visit'st us to-day; Charlotte, his wife, with whom she lives, and who have what though our views of life be different, an only child, a boy, called Fritz, some eight or ten years | 'Tis natural; the winter oft is cold; old. In Charlotte, the farmer's wife, Reinald discovers The summer day is sometimes far too sultry. a sister whom he had long lost; and he and his new Come, strengthen thou thyself in my warın sunshine,

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Thy cold and holy moonlight shall inspire me,

the reader feels as if he had been entrapped into grief, Thus we shall yield a little to each other

ingeniously perhaps, but scarcely fairly. In such exchanges friendship doth consist.

As to the manner in which the translation is executed AUGUSTIN (gives the people a sign ; they bring in the

by Mr Cowan, we consider it highly respectable; exhi. basket and depart).

biting at once good English composition, and a success. Now, thou dost feel and use thy happiness

ful transfusion of the spirit of the original. Here and Like to a man of' strength; but, Werner, couldst thou Bear sorrow with the self-same equal courage ?

there, indeed, the language is prodigiously prosaic ; but WERNER.-Ay! time and care

this is more the fault of Oehlenschlaeger than his translaAUGUSTIN. Just as the bubble melts

tor. The unpoetical familiarity of the following lines, In air, so passeth happiness away.

for example, is positively ludicrous :How if the time were come?

Our little son
WERNER.
Most pious father,

Hath climb'd the Alps, to pay to grandpapa
What bringest thou ?- A basket of fair fruit ?

A little visit. We are not afraid,
We thank thee!

But 'tis somewhat unpleasant, that to day
AUGUSTIN. Yes, 'tis filled with fairest fruit.
An hour ago it grew upon its stem

They put up a new railing at the cleft;
In innocence; and now 'tis pluck'd for ever,

The old one is in ruins. As my husband

Goes the same way, I asked him even now
And ihe pale body like an angel smiles.

To hasten, and to bring my boy again.”
WERNER. -Methinks it is a dismal view of life,
When e'en an apple seerns to thee a corse.

But our longer quotation must be considered as a juster
AUGUSTIN.- What is it then? Is it not broken too

specimen of the pervading tone of this poem, which From off the mother branch? WERNER.

is, in many instances, pleasing ; and, in some, even viYes, to fulfil The end of nature.

gorous.
AUGUSTIN. And is not the heart,
When it grows stiff, like to a simple fruit
When plucked—not to delight the mortal sense

General Synopsis of the Decisions of the Court of SesWith its own sweetness,but itself to taste

sion. By N. P. Brown, Esq. Advocate. Edinburgh. The everlasting happiness of Heaven?

William Tait.
Werner.— Yes, this is striking and poetical!
Augustin (with increasing erpression.)

We are just in time to give Mr Brown one friendly
And is the child, the fairest of all towers,
When suddenly it leaves its parent stem,

impulse ere he reaches the goal; for eleven of his numNot to be likeried to such noble fruit,

hers are already out, and the twelfth and last is expectJust torn away to sow in Paradise

ed in January. For the punctuality and rapidity with Its spotless kernel, where no worm shall gnaw

which the work has been brought forward, the legal Its bloom for ever?

public will not fail to assign Mr Brown due crudit, haWERNER (in sudden anricty).

ving before their eyes a recent example, where a work God! what dost thou mean

was published in two parts, -and the whole price taken at By these similitudes? Thou frighten'st me.

delivery of the first number, on an engagement that the Argestin.-Much to be pitied father! Who can comfort second should speedily follow it; but that second numThee, who, of earthly happiness secure, dreamst not

ber was kept back for several years afterwards. This Of care: It comes a sudden thunderbolt. How shall I contort thee? Thou lovest only

was very bad ; and had we been in the place of our This earthly lite, without desire of Heaven!

manifold friend the public, we should have raised five WERNER (rushes forward, opens the basket, and erclaims hundred actions of repetition and damages. Mr Brown, in wild sorrow),

however, has felt the propriety of duly calculacing, beOh God! my Fritz! Dead !-Paiemand bruised and fore he pledged himself to the public, and of honour-cold.

ably redeeming his pledge. Without such punctuality, Augustin (with deep commiseration).

the very advantageous mode of publishing large works Madden, poor heart-ay, quit thee of thy wound; in numbers becomes positively pernicious. Beat thick, and, Nature, hold thy own. Moan forth

With regard to the utility of the work, there is and Wild lamentations froin his lips. Give air

can be but one opinion. Our Scottish collections of De. To his pent breast, that so despair may not

cisions have been assuming a very respectable axpect. Strangle him duinbly. Flow, ye bitter tears, Flow and dry up your salt and burning springs.

Mr Bewn himself, by publishing ancient Decisions Weep, father, weep, because thy child is dead?

from manuscripts of Lords Hailes, Fountainhall, &c. But, Griet'! 'when thou hast done thy uttermost,

&c., and from other sources, has contributed seven come. Despair! when thou hast raged out thy worst

ly quartos to the general stock; and we believe it is no Oh! come then, Comfort from the grace of God, exaggeration to say, that Scotland can now boast of half Appearing like the moon in mourning clouds;

a cubic yard, or about fifteen cubic feet, of reported oh! dissipate the darkness with thy silver,

cases. This was, and is, a very gratifying consideration And let the father see his Fritz again,

for the country at large ; but quite other wise for the Alive and bless'd among the choir of angels.

lawyers. Fifteen cubic feet of reading-light and pleaP. 507.

sant as it was—palled upon the appetite. Not only was

the systematic study of Decisions become a matter of The mother, the new-found uncle Reinald, and the fos- appalling difficulty, but the very searching for precedents ter sister Babli, all come in soon aftırwards, and join in in any actual case was a great, and often a very unsatisthe father's grief. After all this, the reader is not a lit- factory labour. It was seeking a needle in a hay-stack. tle surprised to discover that Fritz is not dead! The dead Partial indices there were, no doubt; but they were parchild turns out to have been a brother of Fritz's grand- tial, and consequently numerous, and thus produced the father, who had fallen into the cleft when a boy, many very difficulty they were intended to avoid." They were years before ; and the body having been saturated with constructed, too, on such difficult principles, that an acmountain salı, had thus been preserved from all appear. quaintance with one gave no key to the arrangement of ance of decay! The dead child had, moreover, so strong the other. a family likeness, that, when the body was found, it de- Such was the mass to which Mr Brown applied him. ceived not only Augustin the hermit, but even the fa- self, with the view of educing order and harmony from ther and mother, who believed it to be their own son ! discord and confusion ; of marshalling into proper troops This is, surely, a strange outrage on probability; and the scattered bands of Decisions ; of making a clew to

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