"Cecilia. (Cecilia and Lucy hasten to raise her.) O rise, rise!

Stella. No, here I will kneel, lament, pray to Heaven and to you to forgive me. Pardon! Pardon! (She starts up.) Pardon!-I am not in fault-Thou gavest him to me, great God of Heaven! I held him as thy dearest gift!-lcave me !-my heart is rent! Cecilia. Touching innocence !

Stella.-(Taking Cecilia in her arms.) I see the goodness of Hea ven in your eyes. I sink-O raise me up! She forgives me, she feels my misery!

Cecilia. My dear Stella! my friend-my sister- be calm-exert all your powers!-Believe that he who created us with these passions, can support us under them, and give us relief and comfort. Stella.-Let me stay and die in your arms!

Cecilia.-(After a long pause, in which Stella walks distractedly up and down, she exclaims with violence.) Come!

Stella.--No! Leave me! leave me! disorder, confusion, horror, despair, overwhelm me! it cannot be - it is impossible !—so suddenly! -it cannot be comprehended!-it cannot be borne! (She stands thoughtful for a time, with her eyes fixt on the ground, at length raising them up, she sees them both screams, and runs away.

Cecilia. Follow her Lucy-Watch her!

(Exit Lucy.) Cecilia.-(Alone.) O look down in mercy upon thy children!upon their distresses, their sorrows. I alas! have been taught to suffer strengthen me--and if the knot can be loosened; great God of Heaven! let it not be rent!'

Many other scenes are equally affecting; and all are free from rant. The catastrophe, of which the poet has made choice, is that the two ladies, at the suggestion of the first wife, should remain attached to Ferdinand, and both continue to live with him in amicable copartnership; a solution very likely to command more applause on the Continent than in our ifland.

Tay

ART. XXXIV. The Wild Huntsman's Chase. From the German of Bürger, Author of Lenore. 4to. IS. Faulder.

WE noticed, in our 23d vol. p. 36, an earlier translation of

this striking ballad; and we can discover no superior merit in the new version. The same stanzas which we then extracted shall be laid before our readers, from this pamphlet, for the purpose of comparison:

Field in and out, hill up and down,

Still rushing forward on they fly;

· O'er verdant lawns, o'er moors so brown,

The Rival Knights still follow nigh.

See! from yon brake a milk-white Hart they rouse ;

Mark well his size, observe his branching brows.

And

And louder still his horn he blew,
And speedier still both horse and hound,
With wild uproar, pursuing flew ;

Some headlong dash'd, bleed on the ground.-
"Go! hurl to Hell! why should it me annoy?
"Enow remain:-my pleasure I'll enjoy."
Now prostrate in the rip'ning corn
The panting Stag his form conceals;

But vain his wiles, his hopes forlorn,
The steamy scent his haunt reveals.—
Kneeling the toil-worn Lab'rer cried, " Forbear!
"Our dear-bought earnings, Earl, in mercy spare."
The gentle Knight now forward bears,
And offers counsel mild and good;
But the left man derides his fears,
And fires him on to deeds of blood.

With scorn the gen'rous dictates he declines,
And in the left man's toils himself entwines.

"Begone!" (he roar'd) " thou cursed clown!"
(At him his fiery steed he rears)-

"I swear my hounds shall hunt thee down,
"If still thy clamours din my ears.

"My words to prove-Ho! Comrades, come along!
"Sound well your whips, and let him feel the thong."
He said, 'twas done.-With desp'rate bound,
O'er fence he flies, and close behind,
With action eager, horse and hound
Streaming pursue.-Like wintry wind,
The suite and pack dispersing, quickly spread
Wide waste.-Alas! the Lab'rer's hopes are fled!'

In rapidity of diction, this translator approaches his original; but the popularity of manner, which Bürger affects, contrasts with the pompous and inflated style that is so usual with some recent English poets.

ART. XXXV. The Life and Opinions of Sebaldus Nothanker. Translanted from the German of Frederich Nicolai, by Thomas Dutton, A. M. 12mo. Vols. II. and III. 9s. sewed. Symonds. 1798.

Tay

IN' our 22d volume, No. for March 1797, we gave an account of this work, derived from the first volume of the present translation; and as we then endeavoured to give our readers a competent idea of the nature and merits of the performance, together with some information concerning the ingenious author, there seems to be, now, very little occasion for us to enlarge on the subject. Our readers will, no doubt, deem it sufficient that we have announced to them the continuation and conclusion of M. Nicolai's lively and humorous satire on bigotry, superstition, and intolerance.

Rr 4

As,

As, however, in our former account of this entertaining production, we brought our readers acquainted with the natu ral and well-drawn character of a worthy military officer, the friend of the good Sebaldus, we shall give a farther specimen of the translation by accompanying them to his bed-side; where he lies at the point of death, in consequence of a wound which he had received, while he was endeavouring to do an act of justice, according to his soldierly notions of the eternal obligations of virtue and honour.-His reverend friend was then with him, performing the last offices of friendship, affection, and piety; and on this aweful occasion, the following conversation ensueş:

"You come just in right time, my dear friend-said the major. I am convinced I shall never leave my bed, and am fully prepared to meet my fate. However, as my faithful servant Francis-here the major affectionately squeezed his hand-seems to think it necessary that I should have a clergyman to prepare me for death, I know no person, my dear friend, whom I would wish to perform this office sooner than yourself. Act therefore, as though you were my regu. lar confessor. Put to me what questions you please, instruct me, pray with me."

6

Sebaldus was moved to tears at this address: "To prepare for dying on a death-bed-he replied-is always an arduous, and at times a fruitless undertaking. If a conversion of the heart have not previously taken place, there is little ground to look for it under such circumstances. To enforce conviction of the truth, in points of faith, the time is much too short, and the mind not sufficiently at ease. To inculcate duties it is then too late. The best course a minister in these circumstances can pursue, is to strengthen and raise the weak."

Major. I am not weak, my dear Sir, let me intreat you, therefore, not to spare me, but deal with me as a clergyman ought to deal with a person on his death-bed; treat me strictly after the manner prescribed on these occasions.-

Sebal. You believe, I suppose, that there must be a God, who has created heaven and earth?

Major. Most assuredly; who can disbelieve a God?

Sebal. And you believe, likewise, that God, by his wise unerring providence, governs the world and all things in it?

Major. Certainly; without God can nothing be brought about. Sebal. And that a future state of existence awaits us after this mortal life?

• Major. No! death puts a final close to the scene.

Sebal. I have frequently surmised from your conversation, that such was your opinion, though I never had an opportunity to discuss the point. If your notion were true, we should, you must acknowledge, in many occurrences of life be totally excluded from hope. But God, who never permits evil, without intending our good, has, like a kind father, provided a remedy for every calamity. This consideration has from my youth led me to reflect seriously upon the

immortality of the soul, and I am fully convinced that both reason and revelation furnish a number of potent arguments, which render this doctrine not only highly probable, but upon mature deliberation most indubitably certain.

Major. I have ever been of opinion, that reason can hardly ascer tain, when a man is actually dead; how then can it know what happens to us after death? My intellects at least, are not competent to the task. With respect to the bible, and I have read the whole of it, it contains a number of good things, many of which may turn to pro fit and account in this life. But as to a future existence, with other incomprehensibilities, I do not believe it a whit the more for standing in a book.

• Sebal. If then you have read the bible, do you believe that it contains the will of God, and that we are bound to follow it?

Major. 'Tis the will of God, that a man should be just and honest, This every body must allow, and the bible says so too. As to the rest, it may be well enough for you gentlemen of the church, but a soldier's head is not calculated to hold all the strange things which parsons have to dispute about. 1

Sebal. You admit then, that no man ought to act unjustly. And yet most, I might say, all men are frequently guilty of injustice. What is to be done then, in case we have deserved chastisement for our sins?

Major. In that case, we may even suffer: who orders us to sin? Sebal. But, perhaps the question is not so easily decided. What! and if our nature be constitutionally so imperfect, that we cannot abstain from sinning? if we are too frail to follow implicitly the will of God?

Major. In that case, God cannot be angry with us. We are the creatures of his hand, and, truly, with great wisdom has he fashioned us: there is nothing belonging to us without a cause. How then can God expect from us what we are not competent to perform? You see, for instance, this pointer; 'tis a pointer and nothing more; it will spring a partridge, but if I wanted it to hunt down a wild boar, 1 could not say the dog was guilty of a fault, because it was not able to do it.

Sebal. Your inference is too precipitate. We must proceed a little more deliberately, if we wish to discuss this question thoroughly; but for this, time will not suffice. Let us then return to the subject of a future life. Consider well, that if this point be overthrown, we make an end of all rewards and punishments, which it is obvious are not adequately annexed to virtue and vice in this present stage of existence. And with this all incentive to virtue would be destroyed.

Major. Why so? An honest man must act uprightly, from a love of justice, not from a hope of reward. If I meet with any reward afterwards, well and good; but if not, this is no reason why I ought to act less justly. I have frequently risked my life in battle, notwithstanding I have continued to be a major. Or do you conceive, Sir, that I called the rascal up stairs to account, merely that I might in the life to come be promoted to the rank of colonel ?

Sebal. But rewards are the immediate consequences of virtuous actions. In this world a soldier expects to be rewarded by his king for his valour, and is dissatisfied if neglected.

6

Major. Well, and is it not reward sufficient that I am con. scious of having done what is right? And then again, 'tis a very

different

different case with God than with a king. A king is but a man like myself, and cannot know all things, else I should certainly have been promoted. But God is omniscient, and that's a great comfort, he will give me what of right belongs to me.

Sebal. Let us, however, suppose for a moment, that there is such a thing as a future life, what, after all, according to your own confession, is not an impossibility:-let us suppose, that all our actions, whether good or bad, will have their retributive consequences, and that these consequences may be of inconceivable importance, though of a nature to us at present incomprehenfible :-granting this, does not the man, who regulates his conduct by the same rule of right, by which he expects to have to answer for his actions in a future state, act with greater prudence and consistency, than he, who, in the opinion that death finally closes the scene, acts just as his inclination prompts, and in his unconcern is guilty of many things, which in a future life he cannot justify, and the consequences of which he cannot alter? And consider, which of these two characters is likely to prove in this world, the best citizen, the most virtuous and useful member of society? The major stedfastly regarded Sebaldus and remained silent, Sebaldus did the same. Át length the patient spoke thus with great

earnestness:

"Sir, these are points, which I never once thought of in my whole life-indeed a soldier has not time for deep reflection. But now I recollect myself. If there be a future life, and a day of general judgment, I can, I think, pluck up courage, and neither stand in fear of God nor Devil. Let him come, my enemy, and accuse me― God will be my judge, and he knows that knowingly I never have done evil. O thou, my omnipotent Creator! I shall then say-here the major raised himself up in the bed and devoutly folded his handsthou knowest, that I have never oppressed the weak; that I have never injured the widow and the fatherless; that I have never know. ingly employed these hands in evil. True indeed-here he paused awhile, and modestly cast his eyes on the ground-I have not done all the good I might have done. But, oh! thou most merciful of beings!-here he again raised his eyes with confidence towards heaven -I cast myself upon thy hands. Thou hast in thy wisdom formed me man, as such thou canst not require perfection of me. I desire not, if there be a heaven, to obtain the uppermost-seat."

Here, exhausted with exertion, he fell gently back - his breath failed him-after a little while, however, he somewhat recovered, and affectionately pressing the hand of Sebaldus, said with a faultering voice:

"Ah! my friend, if God has a regiment of saints, 'tis enough for one like me to be a private !"

Fain would he have said more, but utterance failed him, he was seized with the rattles in his throat; all assistance proved fruitless; he expired soon after, and Sebaldus weeping closed his eyes.'

We do not join with those who deem M. Nicolai an enemy to Religion: the pernicious engraftments on that sacred stock are the proper objects of his satire.

G.