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able height, and nearly one hundred yards in breadth. This is the place where Beauchamp made his observations, and it is certainly the most interesting part of the ruins of Babylon; every vestige discoverable in it declares it to have been composed of buildings far superior to all the rest which have left traces in the eastern quarter: the bricks are of the finest description; and notwithstanding this is the grand storehouse of them, and that the greatest supplies have been and are now constantly drawn from it, they appear still to be abundant. But the operation of extracting the bricks has caused great confusion, and contributed much to increase the difficulty of decyphering the original design of this mound, as in search of them the workmen pierce into it in every direction, hollowing out deep ravines and pits, and throwing up the rubbish in heaps on the surface. In some places they have bored into the solid mass, forming winding caverns and subterranean passages, which, from their being left without adequate support frequently bury the workmen in the rubbish. In all these excavations, walls of burnt brick laid in lime mortar of a very good quality are seen; and in addition to the substances generally strewed on the surfaces of all these mounds, we here fiud fragments of alabaster vessels, fine earthenware, marble, and great quantities of varnished tiles, the glazing and colouring of which are surpisin fresh. In a hollow near the southern part I found a sepulchral urn of earthenware, which had been broken in digging, and near it lay some human bones which pulverized with the touch."
The third and fast ruin,on the ea tern side of the Euphrates, is that stupendous heap called by the natives MUJELIBE, meaning overturned, according to an old Asiatic tradition that it was subverted by thunder and storms from heaven. This is thought by Major Rennel and others to be the remains of the Temple of Belus, although Mr. Rich seems rather inclined to fix its site at a place lower down, on the western side of the Euphrates, where a still Bobler ruin, called the BIRS NEMROOD, or Palace of Nimrod, stands in solitary grandeur. Both accounts are much too long for insertion here, and we must, on that account, refer our readers to the volume itself; but they will be amply paid for their trouble by the peru
The great subject, therefore, of debate that [still remains for decision among antiquarians, is, whether, in that stupendous mass of ruins called the MUJELIBE, or in that still vaster mass the BIRS NIMROOD, we have found the actual remains of the tower of Belus, or, in more popular language, BABEL. In the one, or the other, they must exist, for nothing of similar magnitude is to be found in all the adjoining district; no object exalts itself with such impressive grandeur, or exhibits such immense quantities of the true kiln burnt Babylonian brick.
Mr. M. concludes this first portion of his volume with the following judicious remarks; with the insertion of which we shall, for the present, take our leave of him.
The result of the preceding cursory survey of the proudest remaining monuments of Asiatic antiquity, seems to be, that, although we have doubtless ascertained the site, and from evidence both external and internal many of the public edifices, of Babylon: yet the actual extent of the circumference of that great city, from the varying accounts of the ancient historians, remains still disputa ble, and must ever do so, unless the vestiges of its vast walls shall hereafter be accurately traced by still more assiduous local research. If the Birs and Della Valle's ruin, so very distant, were ever included in its walls, the mensurations assigned by Herodotus the Father of History must be resorted to, however apparently incredible, to solve the difficulty: and Herodotus will thereby obtain a new and unfading laurel. In our present state of doubt and uncertainty, and until Mr. Rich shall favour us with the result of those more extended investigations designed by him, it will be safest for us to coincide in the rational conjecture of some able geographers, that those enormous lines of demarcation were intended rather to designate the bounds of the District, than of the City, of Babylon. Indeed, on the supposition that the circumference of those walls was enlarged by Nebuchadnezzar, there was the most urgent reason for that district to be well fortified, as well against_the_ferocious hordes of wild Arabs that hung over it on the western quarter, as the more formidable armies of the Medes and Persians on the northern and eastern limits, who, about that period, were widely extending their conquests in Asia, and under Cyrus,
only a few years afterwards, about A.D. 536, actually conquered Babylon itself, and put an end for ever to the Assyrian dynasty."
(To be concluded in our next.)
Idwal, and other Portions of a Poem; to which is added, Gryphiadea, Carmen Venatorium, by P. Bayley, Esq. Foolscap 8vo. pp. 274.
In the Preface to these fragments, the author informs us, that "they are sent out like the little Montgolfiers with which aeronauts try at once their gas, and the currents of the atmosphere, before they commit themselves to the deep air in a large balloon."-Whether this nouvelle experiment in literature is, or is not, deserving of approval, and imitation, we can scarcely take upon us to decide; much may certainly be urged in advocacy of the measure, but we think not less in
favour of an opposite opinion-The
tages," both in the interest of its nar-
Blue as the azure of a summer sky;
Idwal," is, in general, highly poetical, both in the tale itself, and in the manner it is told. In some instances, the hero bears, perhaps, too close a resemblance to Beattie's "Edwin :" and it occurred to us, in reading, that his tragic fate would have excited more interest, and created more effect, had it not been intimated so frequently previous, thus preparing the reader for a denouement which he is all along told is inevitable.
The Narration of Brito" is a tale of war and havock, and its horrors are depicted in language to which we are happy in thus offering our meed of The Hosgeneral approval; but
Seem'd not a daring spirit to proclaim;
Gave frightful passage to some wondrous
Yet would he oft the giddy crags descend,
And calm, amid the torrent's deafening roar, Each gloomy chasm, and dark recess explore.
He knew, and well he loved each spot that bore
Mysterious record of some deed of yore,
Of fays, and spirits, and gigantic cawrs,
And held it impions not to think them true.
He heard a spirit in the waving woods,
Then, as he look'd on all the scene around,
Most of our readers will, we doubt not, discern, with us, more than one very near approach, to plagiarism in these
lines; but they will also duly appreciate the beauties of a passage quoted at random, and by no means given as the best we could have selected.The remainder of the volume is occupied by a Greek “Carmen Venatorium," entitled, “Gryphiadæa," the notes to which display much erudition, and an intimate critical know ledge with classical literature, as do the other notes with Cambrian history and antiquities. We have only further room to notice, that the concluding pieces of these "Portions" are a Latin Ode to the Rev. T. Butt, and "The last Farewell!" which latter piece is given to the public with the author's name, only to preclude its appearance in another, and more "questionable shape." It does not, however, disgrace the former poems, and we look for the publication of the entire work with a confidence of not being disappointed in our very sanguine anticipations both of its desert, and its success.
Lalla Rookh: An Oriental Romance. By Thomas Moore, 4to. 1817. WE Congratulate the author of Lalla Rookh on having produced a work worthy of his talents and his taste, and honorable to his age and country. By his earlier efforts, we had been rather, tantalized than gratified-they discovered to us the golden sands that, to a discerning eye, never fail to indicate the existence of the mine-but the mine itself was rather tracked than wrought-its depth unfathomed-and its treasure unexplored. The present volume contains a cluster of poems appended to an interesting tale elegantly narrated in prose.
By this judicious arrangement, Mr. Moore has not only avoided the tedious monotony incident to a long narrative in verse - but he has most happily and gracefully introduced in the series a greater variety of style and description than could have been admitted with propriety into a single poem. The first in the series, and unquestionably the most important, is, The veiled Prophet of Korassan," founded on a fanatical impostor who once acquired a temporary ascendant in India and Persia. Another poem of equal length is the Fire Worshippers," hibits the more generous superstitions of the Guebres, and the unrelenting persecution of their Moslem oppressors.
The Peri and Paradise embodies the purer ethics of the Koran which have been derived from the Gospel. The sight of the Haram presents an elegant picture of an Oriental Zenona. Each of these poems has a style appropriate to its peculiar character. In "The veiled Prophet of Korassan," we recognise the strong and vivid conceptions of a dramatic poem. Mokanna is an impostor pretending to a divine mission, who allures one sex by professions of patriotism, and seduces the other by the promise of Paradise. Amongst his parLizans is the noble Azim, who, after a long interval of captivity, had returned from Greece inflamed with zeal to emancipate and enlighten his country. Anxious to secure his youthful champion, Mokanna admits Azim to his voluptuous Haram, where his virtue is to be assailed by all the arts of seduction, and the omnipotent blandishments of beauty. Surprised, but not subdued, Azim recollects his affianced bride Zelica-little suspecting that she had been the victim of Mokanna's arts, and was at that moment an inmate of those polJuted walls.
"Is this then, thought the youth, is this the way To free man's spirit from the deadening
sway Of worldly sloth-to teach him while he lives
To know no bliss but that which virtue
And when he dies, to leave his lofty name A light, a land-mark on the cliffs of fame? It was not so, land of the generous thought And daring deed! thy godlike sages taught; It was not thus, in bow'rs of wanton ease, Thy freedom nursed her sacred energies; Oh! not beneath th' enfeebling withering glow
Of such dull luxury did those myrtles grow, With which she wreath'd her sword, when she would dare
Immortal deeds; but in the bracing air
Life, health, and lustre, into freedom's
Who, that surveys this span of earth we
This speck of life in Time's great wilderness, This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless
The past, the future, two eternities,Would sully the bright spot or leave it bare, When he might build him a proud temple there,
A name, that long shall hallow all its space, And be each purer soul's high resting place!
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But no-it cannot be, that one, whom God Has sent to break the wizard Falsehood's rod,
A Prophet of the Truth, whose mission draws
Its rights from Heaven, should thus profane his cause
With the world's vulgar pomps ;— no, no—
He thinks me weak- this glare of luxury
So thought the youth;-but, even while he defied
This witching scene, he felt its witchery.
Like a pervading spirit ;—the still sound.. ;
And music too-dear music! that can touch
Succeeding in smooth seas, when storms are laid;
He thought of Zelica, his own dear maid, And of the time when, full of blissful sighs, They sat and look'd into each other's eyes,
Silent and happy-as if God had given Nought else worth looking at on this side
Whilst indulging these delicious emotions, his attention is arrested by a sigh, and he recognizes in the mourner his beloved Zelica. A most affecting interview succeeds: we will not diminish by anticipation the pleasure of the reader in perusing this interesting pathetic tale, in which we alternately discover the energy of Dryden and the tenderness of Otway. The conclusion is inimitably fine, and we should certainly give it pre-eminent precedence over the other poems, but for the disgust intermingled with the horror inspired by Mokanna, which almost exceeds the limit of pleasure. From this objection the poem of the Fire-Worshippers is wholly exempted-the subject is hap píly chosen to engage our most generous sympathies, yet is perfectly copgenial to the spirit of Oriental poetry.
To sing him to his golden rest! All hush'd-there's not a breeze in motion; The shore is silent as the ocean. If zephyrs come, so light they come,
Nor leaf is stirr'd, nor wave is driven;The wind-tower on the Emir's dome
Can hardly win a breath from heaven." The daughter of the Emir is introduced with the happiest effect after the description of her ferocious father. "Oh what a pure and sacred thing
Is Beauty, curtain'd from the sight Of the gross world, illumining
One only mansion with her light! Unseen by man's disturbing eye.→
The flower, that blooms beneath the ses Too deep for sun-beams, doth not lie
Hid in more chaste obscurity !^^ So. Hinda, have thy face and mind, Like holy mysteries, lain enshrin'd. And oh what transport for a lover
To lift the veil that shades them o'er!Like those who, all at once, discover
In the lone deep some fairy shore, Where mortal never trod before, And sleep and wake in scented airs No lip had ever breathed but theirs!”
A description follows of exquisite, we had almost said incomparable, beauty. "Light as the angel shapes that bless An infant's dream, yet not the less Rich in all woman's loveliness ;With eyes so pure, that from their ray Dark Vice would turn abash'd away, Blinded like serpents, when they gaze Upon the emerald's virgin blaze!— Yet, fill'd with all youth's sweet desires, Mingling the meek and vestal fires Of other worlds with all the bliss, The fond, weak tenderness of this, A soul too, more than half divine,
Where through some shades of earthly feeling,
Religion's soften'd glories shine,
Like light through summer foliage stealing, Shedding a glow of such mild hue, So warm, and yet so shadowy too, As makes the very darkness there More beautiful than light elsewhere!"
Hinda receives a visit from her myste rious lover, with whose nanie and conn try she is unacquainted. During this interview, he declares that he is a
When pensive, it seem'd as if that very grace,
That charm of all others, was born with her face;
That to young NOURMAHAL gave such magic of bliss: But that loveliness, ever in motion, which plays Like the light upon autumn's soft shadowy days, Now here and now there, giving warmth as it Hies
From the lips to the cheek, from the cheek to the eyes,
Now melting in mist and now breaking in gleams, Like the glimpses a saint has of Heav'n in
Europ. Mag. Vol. LXXII. July 1817.
The short, passing anger but seem`d to awa
New beauty, like flow'rs that are sweetest when shaken.
If tenderness touch'd her, the dark of her eye
At once took a darker, a heavenlier dye, From the depth of whose shadow, like holy revealings
From innermost shrines, came the light of her feelings!
Then her mirth-oh! 'twas sportive as ever took wing From the heart with a burst, like the wildbird in spring;Illum'd by a wit that would fascinate sages,' Yet playful as Peris just loos'd from their