Page images
PDF
EPUB

footsteps of a French disciple of atheism and materialism; and to him these majestic rocks conveyed the idea of blind matter; and the roar of the waves upon them that of death and subsequent annihilation. But what a different sensation was conveyed to my heart when Charles grasped my hand, and exclaimed, in an energetic and affecting tone of voice:

"These are thy glorious works, Parent of Good!
Almighty! Thine this universal frame

Thus wondrous fair! Thyself how wondrous then!
Unspeakable!!!

Who sitt'st above these heavens, to us invisible !

Or dimly seen in these thy lowest works;

Yet these declare thy goodness, beyond thought,
And power divine.”

When he paused, the rocks for a long time re-echoed to his voice. All nature seemed to join in the morning hymn of our great poet.

ADMONITORY ADDRESS TO LONDON.

-Now mark a spot or two,

That so much beauty would do well to purge;
And show the queen of cities, that so fair
May yet be foul; so witty, yet not wise.-CowPER.

AND thou, Augusta, hear " in this thy day;"
For once, like thee, lost Babylon* was gay:

The following address is the termination of a harmonious and energetic poem, written by Francis Wrangham, on The Destruction of Babylon.

With thee' wealth's taint has seiz'd the vital part,
As once with her, and gangrenes at the heart.
Profusion, Av'rice, flying hand in hand,
Scatter prolific poisons o'er the land;

The teeming land with noxious life grows warm,
And reptile mischiefs on its surface swarm:-
Like hers, or deaf, or faithless to the vow
Of honest passion, are thy daughters now;
With well-feign'd flame th' obedient maidens wed,
If wealth or birth adorn the vernal bed:

There-ere a second moon, more fix'd than they,
With changing beam the jointur'd bride survey.-
Madly they fly where appetite inspires,
Dart the unhallow'd glance, and burn with real fires.

Thy sons, like hers, a fickle, fluttering train,
Th'illustrious honours of their name profane;
Stake half a province on the doubtful die,
And mark the fatal cast without a sigh:
Their heavier hours th' intemperate bow beguiles,
Wakes the dull blood, and lights lascivious smiles;
Then in the stews they court th'impure embrace,
Drink deep disease, and mar the future race.

Far other Britons ancient Gallia view'd,
When her dead chiefs the plains of Cressy strew'd;
Proud of such heroes, and by such rever'd,
In that blest age får other dames appear'd:

Blest
age, return! thy sternness soften'd down,
Charm with our better features, and thine own!
Come; but resign those glories of the field,
The gleaming falchion, and the storied shield:

Renounce the towery menace of thy brow,
Which frown'd despair on vassal crowds below
And, true to order, and of all the friend,
To varied rank unvarying law extend.
Ah! in the snowy robe of Peace array'd,
Led by the virtues of the rural shade,
Return, and let advancing time behold
Regenerate man, and other years of gold.

Then shall no feuds our triple realm divide,
No traitor point the dagger at its side;

;

But each, with patriot toils, his hours shall crown, And in his country's welfare find his own.

MISCHANCE OF FRENCH GALLANTRY, A HUMOROUS

...

ANECDOTE.

Spectatum admissi risum teneatis ?--HOR.

Admitted to the sight, would you not laugh?

Paris.

I SHALL conclude my letter, descriptive of the fête in honour of the peace, with this laughable anecdote:

A lusty young Frenchman, whom, from his headdress à la Titus, I shall distinguish by that name, escorting a lady, whom, on account of her beautiful hair, I shall style BERENICE, stood on one of the hindmost benches. The belle, habited in a tunic à la Grecque, with a species of sandals which displayed the elegant form of her leg, was unfortunately not of a stature sufficiently commanding to see over the heads

of other spectators. It was to no purpose that the gentleman called out à bas les chapeaux! When the hats were off, the lady still saw no better. What will not gallantry suggest to a man of fashionable education? Our considerate youth perceived, at no great distance, some persons standing on a plank, supported by a couple of casks. Confiding the fair Berenice to my care, he vanished; but, almost in an instant he reappeared, followed by two men, bearing an empty hogshead, which, it seems, he procured from the tavern at the west entrance of the Thuilleries. To place the cask near the feet of the lady, and fix her on it, was the business of a moment. Here then she was, like a statue on its pedestal, enjoying the double satisfaction of seeing and being seen. But, for enjoyment to be complete, we must share it with those we love. On examining the space where she stood, the lady saw there was room for two, and accordingly invited the gentleman to place himself beside her. In vain he resisted her entreaties; in vain he feared to incommode her. She commanded; he could do no less than obey. Stepping up on the bench, he thence nimbly sprang to the cask; but, oh! fatal catastrophe! while, by the light of the neighbouring cluster of lamps, every one around was admiring the mutual attention of this sympathizing pair, in went the head of the hogshead.

Our till then envied couple fell suddenly up to the middle of the leg in the wine-lees left in the cask, by which they were bespattered up to their very eyes. Nor was this all: being too eager to extricate themselves, they overset the cask, and came to the ground, rolling in it, and its offensive contents. It would be no

C

easy matter to picture the ludicrous situation of Citizen Titus and Madam Berenice. This being the only mischief resulting from their fall, a universal burst of laughter seized the surrounding spectators, in which I took so considerable share, that I could not immediately afford assistance.

my

AN ANTIQUARIAN IN THE EGYPTIAN CATACOMBS.

....

Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee. Oh! oh! answer me;

Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell

Why thy embalmed bones, hearsed in earth,

Have burst their cerements ?"--SHAKSPEARE.

WHEN the French Abbé arrived at the Catacombs, he was received with affected impatience by those of his fellow travellers who had remained with the Moors whilst he ascended the pyramid. "What!" said Montval, "do you make us wait, on whose account we came hither? The Moors have finished their work this quarter of an hour. You may now descend into this dismal vault, if you have the courage."—Yes, certainly, I shall go down. It is of great importance to know whether the ancient Egyptians laid their mummies flat in these caves, or whether they placed them upright against the wall. In a moment I shall be able to tell you.""Will you go down alone?"-" Why not.""It would be as well that some one should go with you; one does not know.....'

there will be any danger?".

"Do you suspect that "No: but in a dark

cavern fancies may arise: one might be frightened, and

« PreviousContinue »