Imatges de pÓgina
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Come down to thy nest, and tell thy mate,

But tell thy mate alone
Thou hast seen a maid, whose heart of love

Is merry and light as thy own.'
The following is the Anacreontic, which is sung to a spirited
Irish air.

• Put round the bright wine, for my bosom is gay,

The night may have sunshine as well as the day ;
Oh welcome the hours ! when dear visions arise,
To melt my kind spirit, and charm my fond eyes.
When wine to my head can its wisdom impart,
And love has its promise to make to my heart;
Then dim in far shades sink the spectres of care,

And I tread a bright world with a footstep of air.
• Yes, mirth is my goddess—come round me, ye few

Who have wit for her worship, I doat upon you ;
Delighted with life, like a swallow on wing,
I catch every pleasure the current may bring :
The feast and the frolic, the masque and the ball,
Dear scenes of enchantment! I come at your call ;
Let me meet the gay beings of beauty and song,

And let Erin's good-humour be found in the throng.
• If life be a dream-'tis a pleasant one, sure,

And the dream of to-night we at least may secure ;
If life be a bubble, though better I deem,
Let us light up its colours by gaiety's beam.
Away with cold vapours- I pity the mind
That nothing but dulness and darkness can find :
Give me the kind spirit that laughs on its way,

And turns thorns into roses, and Winter to May.' There are a good many songs by Sir Walter Scott, most of which are written with his characteristic spirit and genins; though some of them appear to be not very well adapted for singing. This, however, is not the case with the following beautiful verses, with which we must finish our quotations, and which are truly and essentially a song-in every respect.

• O maid of Isla, from yon cliff

That looks on troubled wave and sky,
Dost thou not see yon little skiff

Contend with ocean gallantly?
Now beating 'gainst the breeze and surge,

And steep'd her leeward deck in foam,-
Why does she war unequal urge?-

O Isla's maid! she seeks her home.
• Isla's maid, yon sea-bird mark,
Her white wing gleams thro' mist and

spray,
Against the storm.cloud, lowering dark,

As to the rock she wheels her way.

Where clouds are dark, and billows rave,

Why to the shelter should she come
Of cliff expos'd to wind and wave?

O maid of Isla! 'tis her home.
• As breeze and tide to yonder skiff,

Thou’rt adverse to the suit I bring,
And cold as is yon wintery cliff,

Where sea-birds close their weary wing.
Yet cold as rock, unkind as wave,

Still, Isla's maid, to thee I come ;
For in thy love, or in his grave,

Must Allan Vourich find his home.' The · Dissertation concerning the National Melodies of Scot• land,'prefixed to the first volume of this work, contains some ingenious speculation and curious information on the subject of which it treats, and is, altogether, creditable to the talents of the author. He has given a more complete and accurate analysis of the Scottish airs, considered in reference to their peculiar musical structure, than has, as far as we know, been hitherto accomplished ; and has deduced from this analysis several conclusions, regarding the antiquity of the melodies, which are at least very plausible, and worthy of attention. Some amusing particulars are mentioned respecting the situation of the bards and minsurels of Scotland. In the reign of James III., they seem to have been highly favoured. That prince was so fond of music, that a part of the choristers of the Chapel-royal at Stirling were always at hand, to sing and play in the words of Lyndsay), - and hold him mirrie.' The following notice, as to their situation in still more remote times, is curious.

• It appears from Bellenden's highly curious translation of Boece's Chronicles of Scotland (Buke 10, chap. 12), that so early as the reign of Kenneth II., “who drew all the confusit laws of Scotland in ane compendius volumen," it was ordered, that, “ all vagabondis, fulis, bardis, scudlaris, and all sicklik idill pepill, sall be brint on the cheik, and scurgit with wandis, bot (unless) they find sum craft to win thair leving.

' In the reign of Macbeth, too, the minstrels must have been deemed

very troublesome subjects; for we find from the same Chro. nicle (Buke 12, chap. 4), in an enumeration of a set of singularly curious “ lawis maid by him for the common weil,” the following enactment : “ Fulis, menstralis, bardis, and al othir sic idil pepill

, bot gif thay be specially licent be the king, sall be compellit to seik sum craft to win thair leving ;-gif thay refuse, they sall be drawin, like hors, in the pluch and harrowis." The Chronicler adds, “ Thir and siclik lawis war usit be King Makbeth : throw quhilk he governit the realme x yeris in gud justice !" We should now, in the exercise of our vocation, proceed to pick out the faults of this book; and we could have no great difficulty in pointing out some poor enough verses which the worthy Editor has admitted among his novelties, and some odd junctions of poetry and music, -as, where he makes Scott's lively little poem of. Highland Nora,' be sung to the tune of • The ducks dang o'er my daddy;' and puts the same author's imitation of the old English metaphysical poetry to the tune of 5 O'er Bogie.' These matches certainly seem to us to be sufficiently ill-assorted; but they detract very little from our general opinion of the work, which is exceedingly elegant and agreeable, and highly creditable to the Editor, as a man of taste and liberal accomplishnients.

LEME.

Art. V. Royal Memoirs on the French Revolution ; containing,

I. A Narrative of the Journey of Louis XVI. and his Family to Varennes. By MADAME ROYALE, DUCHESS OF ANGOU

II. A Narrative of a Journey to Bruxelles (qu. Brussels?) * and Coblentz, in 1791. By Monsieur, row Louis XVIII. III. Private Memoirs of what passed in the Temple, from the Imprisonment of the Royal Family to the Death of the Dauphin. By MADAME ROYALE, Duchess or Angou

With Historical and Biographical Illustrations by the Translator. 8vo. pp. 302. London. Murray, 1823.

LEME.

IT

is remarked by Hume, in one of the Appendixes to his

History, that of the classic writers of antiquity, the greater number were persons in the higher ranks of society; and although those of the highest station in the community were not very famous members of the republic of letters, yet even they did homage to the prevailing taste; for of the first twenty Roman Emperors, above one half were authors. The reverse is certainly the fact in modern times; of which perhaps a better proof can hardly be imagined, than the boast by which Horace Walpole introduces his Catalogue of Royal and Noble authors, that there are ten of the former, and above fourscore of the latter,

a number,' says he, much exceeding what is generally known;' for he swells out the list, by making every one rank as an author, who is known at any time to have written any thing; and accordingly, his kingly writers have not among them a single name known in the literary world, while there are but two or three noblemen born who are at all remembered by their compositions.

* Nothing can be more absurd than this affected use of the French word. Why not also Roma, Napoli, Urien, &c. &c. ?

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the sword and the pen in the same hand. His verses are below contempt, bad even as vers de societé ; and his letters are only interesting because of the great men he corresponded with, and the great events in the midst of which they were writtene.

That a statesman and a warrior of the first class should be addicted to letters at all, is undoubtedly matter of some wonder, and much praise; but our admiration is given to the actions far more than the writings, when it is bestowed upon the union, because of its rarity.

In our own country, the only Royal genius who can be pointed out is James I. of Scotland, à prince of the most happy nature as well as most amiable dispositions; and to his long and rigorous captivity in England may be ascribed the success of his literary pursuits. Next to him we fear not to place, though at a prodigious distance, the sixth monarch of that name; and the only other British prince deserving the title of a literary man. He was a man of undoubted learning, wholly destitute of genius, but endowed with some cleverness. His success in cultivating letters must be judged of by a comparison with his contemporaries. Mr Hume has justly observed, that his

, Speeches are better than those of the Speaker of the House of Commons, at the same period; but it may be added, that the lumber of extraneous learning, which overloads all he has written, and gives his productions so pedantic an aspect, as well as the affected and often silly style in which they are written, must not be hastily pronounced the indications of dulness or folly; since the readers of the great luminary of English law, can be at no loss to match_such defects in almost every part of those works which, says Fuller, 'will be admired by judicious posterity, while Fame has a trumpet left her, or any breath to blow therein.' We allude now, of course, only to his published prose works; and chiefly to the Basilicon Doron, and Commentary on the Lord's Prayer. His verses were beneath contempt; and his unpublished correspondence with Buckingham his favourite, are described by Wellwood as too disgusting to be read by a

modest eye.

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* In the Funeral Sermon preached by Bishop Williams (Keeper of the Great Seal) and entitled, • Great Britain's Solomon,' we are told, that His Majesty was in hand with a translation of the Psalms, • when God called him to sing psalms with the Angels.' This disa course is a comparison of James with Solomon, but to the manifest disadvantage of his Judaical Majesty, even in wisdom and eloquence. As for conduct, Every action (saith the Bishop of Lincoln) was a

virtue, and a miracle to exempt him from any parallel amongst the * modern kings and princes.' Now, on reading this sermon, the question naturally arises upon the Right Reverend Lord Chancel

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