INTELLIGIBLE ODES, CHEERFUL ELEGIES, GAY SONNETS, › DECENT EPIGRAMS, AND TALES OF NO WONDER. Virginibus Puerisque canto.-Hor, 11INTS TO A DEBATING SOCIETY. When Balaam heard, in days of yore, And kick'd-nay, wish'd for sword in hand, The prophet's plan of reformation. QUERIES ON AN ANCIENT FABLE. The queen of soft desires did spring EPIGRAM (FROM THE GREEK) ON A MAN WITH AN IMMENSE NOSE. I spy Hermogenes's nose with ease, ELEGY WRITTEN IN A WINE-CELLAR. What is old age, but life's short barrel drain'd Of the industrious cooper, to restore No more the owner hopes or wishes now Whilst o'er its reliques the boon' DOR% ** companion Come, sportive Goddess, for you can What tho' I sit in lofty chamber, 1 THE POET AND RHIMER. AN ECLOGUE. Poet. So, Mr. Jingle, still sublime, Still ready at a lucky rhime; Amid this scene of distraction, the Inquisitors stood their ground. It was admirable to see their firm and solemn array. As the flames prevailed, they never faultered with foot, or gave a sign with hand, or winked with eye;-their duty, their stern and heartless duty, seemed to be the only principle and motive of their existence. They seemed a phalanx clad in iron impenetrable. When the fires roared, they crossed themselves calmly ;—when the prisoners shrieked, they gave a signal for silence ;-when they dared to pray, they tore them from their knees, and hinted the inutility of prayer at such a juncture, when they might be sure that the flames they were deprecating would burn hotter in a region from which there was neither escape or hope of departure. At this moment, while standing amid the group of prisoners, my eyes were struck by an extraordinary spectacle. Perhaps it is amid the moments of despair, that imagination has most power, and they who have suffered can best describe and feel. In the burning light, the steeple of the Dominican church was as visible as at noon-day. It was close to the prison of the Inquisition. The night was intensely dark, but so strong was the light of the conflagration, that I could see the spire blazing, from the reflected lustre, like a meteor. The hands of the clock were as visible as if a torch was held before them; and this calm and silent progress of time, amid the tumultuous confusion of midnight horrors, this scene of the physical and mental world in an agony of fruitless and incessant motion, might have suggested a profound and singular image, had not my whole attention been rivetted to a human figure placed on a pinnacle of the spire, and surveying the scene in perfect tranquillity. It was a figure not to be mistaken it was the figure of him who had visited me in the cells of the Inquisition. The hopes of my justification made me forget every thing. I called aloud on the guard, and pointed out the figure, visible as it was in that strong light to every one. No one had time, however, to give a glance towards it. At that very moment the archway of the court opposite to us gave way, and sunk in ruins at our feet, dashing, as it fell, an ocean of flame against us. One wild shriek burst from every lip at that moment. Prisoners, guards, and Inquisitors, all shrunk together, mingled in one group of terror. The next instant, the flames being suppressed by the fall of such a mass of stone, there arose such a blinding cloud of smoke and dust, that it was impossible to distinguish the face or figure of those who were next you. The confusion was increased by the contrast of this sudden darkness, to the intolerable light that had been drying up our sight for the last hour, and by the cries of those who, being near the arch, lay maimed and writhing under its fragments. Amid shrieks, and darkness, and flames, a space. lay open before me. The thought, the mo tion, were simultaneous-no one saw-no one pursued ;-and hours before my absence could be discovered, or an inquiry be made after me, I had struggled safe and secret through the ruins, and was in the streets of Madrid." We now close these singular volumes with mingled feelings respecting their contents, but with an unmixed sentiment of good-will to their author, His errors are those of taste, not of the heart. He is greatly distinguished from others of our poets who have aided in perverting the moral feeling of our peo ple, as he is not an unbeliever, nor a scoffer at human affections and human hopes. We implore him to pause, however, before he gives another work like this to the world. His plea for writing romances is unanswerable and indeed none was needed-but there can be no excuse for writing such romances as this. Let him be assured that nothing of this painful, incoherent, and violent charact ter, will ever live. He has energy, pathos, and wonderful richness of diction, which require only to be directed by a calm reflective power to produce, impressions on the national heart which will not decay. His genius is at present a vast chaos, where the noblest elements are struggling, and where the embryos of beauty are perpetually mocking the spectator. May we soon perceive those and those jarring atoms, formed like powers settling into order and harmony, earth at first, into a paradise, redolent with "airs from heaven," and filled with groves laden with immortal fruits! INTS TO A DEBATING SOCIETY. When Balaam heard, in days of yore, And kick'd-nay, wish'd for sword in hand, His heels, nor e'en his wish'd-for rapier, The prophet's plan of reformation. QUERIES ON AN ANCIENT FABLE. The queen of soft desires did spring EPIGRAM (FROM THE GREEK) ON A MAN WITH AN IMMENSE NOSE. I spy Hermogenes's nose with ease, - ELEGY WRITTEN IN A WINE-CELLAR. What is old age, but life's short barrel drain'd Of the industrious cooper, to restore No more the owner hopes or wishes now Whilst o'er its reliques the boon' 1 Drops a few natural tears, but dries them soon !! Come, sportive Goddess, for you can Quite alter my poetic plan; What tho' I sit in lofty chamber, Still, as they flit before your eyes, Take subjects how and when we please Your draughts on fame some distant day. Poet. But think of fame, that proud That crowns for aye the real bard!! Rhimer. Oh, vastly fine! but yet observe, "Whilst the grass grows, the cow must starve ;" That present pudding far outweighs ANCIENT AND MODERN MANNERS. In times of yore the good old hall No dandies could their charms assail. And Miss and Maam, to all beholders, The venturous hand and prying eye; Like modern heroes, each fair charmer Of courage firm despises armour. "With all precautions they dispense, And "Honi soit qui mal y pense." WHEN AND WHERE. HINTS TO VERY FINE WRITERS. "Tis strange what wondrous heights they climb Who are ycleped "bards sublime." move Save the fond vows of mutual love; Met with respect and heard its praise.”, Such things some poets will relate, Would they had put the place and date. ON READING 30ME VERY SAD POEMS. Of doleful bards how great the plenty, And do our numerous sonnetteers, When argument is hitch'd in doubt, In weeds of woe and tints the deepest, Not that their thoughts are black and sad, But because mourning is the cheapest. TO AN ANCIENT COQUETTE. "Ho! ho! quoth Time, my lady fair, Cannot those tresses of gray hair Induce you to be sage? Cannot those wrinkles deep and wide, In vain those fond appeals to art, To lay the red and white in. Such common frauds will ne'er succeed, Since e'en the very beaus can read Time's legible hand-writing." A NERVOUS CHARACTER, IMITATED FROM So much does in life delight, He shook with fear when he espied[/ And then what horrors did he feel The name of "Ancient Pistol" made This hero mortally afraid. But all his dire alarmings cease When you announce the "Prince of Peace." . And when he spied a chosen few," Solicitous each word to hear, ODE TO INDIFFERENCE, Hail, Goddess, in whose placid mien No thought that teems with care is seen, Whose settled features all say no To every call of joy or woe,Approach, and with thy careless gait Each morning at my cottage wait. With thee I'll stroll o'er meadows pied, Blest substitute for Common Sense; FINE AFTER a very successful exhibition in London, Mr. Haydon has left the English metropolis for Edinburgh, where his grand picture of Christ's triumphant entry into Jerusalem will, no doubt, prove highly attractive. The system of exhibiting might easily be made the means of extending the patronage of historical painting; if public bodies would decorate halls and great rooms with works of this class, and allow a small gratuity to be paid by visitors, and applied to some public or charitable purposes. A few fine pictures would thus become no unproductive possession, while our artists would be emulously employed, and our country would accumulate a stock of English paintings richer in all probability than any other nation in the world could boast. Royal Academy.-On Monday Nov. 13, the annual course of lectures delivered by the professors of painting, sculpture, architecture, and anatomy, commenced at this institution; when Mr. Carlisle delivered his introductory discourse on anatomy. Sir Thomas Lawrence presided for the first time, and wore the superb gold chain presented by his Majesty, to which an elegant medal is appended. Mr. Henry Edridge has been elected an associate. Several councils of the Royal Academicians have recently been held respecting the purchase of a unique collection of engravings for the use of the students. Mr. Smith, of the British Museum, has attended, to give his opinion of the value of each of the impressions; and the Associated Engravers will, in all probability, be consulted before the purchase is determined upon. Mr. Wilkie is occupied on a picture for the Duke of Wellington, which may be expected to afford great pleasure to the admirers of this artist's productions; that is, to every one possessed of the least taste or feeling. The subject is a Chelsea pensioner reading to his comrades an account of the battle of Waterloo from the London Gazette. Martin's Feast of Belshazzar is also in progress; a picture in which the peculiar talents of this artist, for producing the sublimely great and immense, will be developed to advantage. A hall of gigantic dimensions crowded with countless multitudes, is represented as the scene of the awful admonition of the hand-writing on the wall. This grand idea treated in the style which may be expected from Mr. Martin, will, no doubt, produce a picture of the first class of excellence. The Wellington Shield, designed by Mr. Thomason, and executed at his manufactory at Birmingham, is perhaps one of the largest specimens of or molu gilding that has been achieved in this country, and tends to shew the stride of improvement that has taken place in this art of manufacture. The circumference of the shield is about ten feet, and is divided into numerous compartments; the centre is in alto-relievo, and exhibits the staff of the Duke of Wellington, at the passing of the Bidassoa. The staff are in full uniform, on horseback; and correct likenesses of Lord Dalhousie, Lord Beresford, Lord Hill, the Duke of Wellington, Lord Niddrie, Lord Lynedoch, Sir Charles Doyle, General Campbell, Earl of March, Marquis of Worcester, and the Prince of Orange, The border is composed of twenty-one |