THE PORTFOLIO. LONDON, SATURDAY, JAN. 15. CONVERSAZIÓNE OF THE EDITOR. WE were unable, in our two last sheets, to carry into effect the design of presenting an original article professedly from the Editor,-and even now can only present the reader with the following INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS, to shew more particularly what may be expected from this series of papers. The Editor, therefore, in the grateful feeling with which the ever-widening circle of his readers inspires him, is seriously desirous (however unfashionable and uucustomary with the present race of periodical writers) to cultivate an acquaintance with his NINE THOUSAND friends (for so many it seems they are), of more engaging and cheerful character than the usual cold and common-place intercourse between Editor and Reader; of tone and manner more gracefully personal, more respectfully familiar; in short, better suited to the proper dignity of one who writes to amuse and to instruct, and of those who honour his labours by condescending to be so instructed and amused. To the success of a new periodical publication, or of any singularly new portion of such a book, two things are peculiarly necessary,—a good plan, and the perfect and competent execution of that plan. Its ultimate fortune, perhaps, depends principally on the latter. The best design, if attempted with inadequate means, or if feebly conducted, must fall to the ground. With respect to the present novelty, and this its (necessarily brief) prospective outline, it is possible to speak only of the plan; the execution must be left to speak afterward for itself. The Editor professes to communicate to his friends such of his rides and walks, his lighter musings and his graver meditations, as, in his judgment, shall seem well suited to his present views, the carefully-preserved morceaux of his bibliographic researches, and the thousand important and various trifles which are rarely perceptible but to the eye of the artist and the philosopher, and which cross their path at every turn a living picture of life and manners, of men and of opinions, of the rarer scenes of nature, and the least accessible curiosities of art. This he purposes to effect in a continuous series of papers, to the amount of a few pages in each week. He is aware that to keep up the tone and the value of this department of his journal, something more is required by the public taste, than a serious and didactic uniformity. Keeping, therefore, the great objects of a literary work ever before him, he will yet pursue the same end by various and different means: his readers will occasionally find it present subjects of light, gay, and sprightly tendency. In the business of moral education, as well as the beneficial pursuit of rational science, the force of ridicule may often be brought to bear against doctrines and against things, on which the artillery of reason would be directed in vain. Pleasant satire may be applied with success in many cases, where grave discussion would be wholly out of place. A short piquant poem, a jeu d'esprit of any kind, may often effect more than a chain of elaborate argument, perfect in every link. With the abundant store of such materials to be expected from the observations of a long and an active com taste; not beyond the comprehension of the humbler aspirant who seeks information, yet possessing attractions that should be felt and acknowledged in the court of the prince, the school of the philosopher. With this sketch of our intentions, the next number will introduce much new and curious information elicited on a subject of much general interest, and to the young more especially ever of intense anxiety. THE BARD'S WISH. mixture with the world,—from an education and professional habits of decidedly scientific character, and from the assistance of an Artist with the pencil, it will be easily imagined, that the Editor is amply provided with the means of occupying the whole of his journal with original matter, if its conduct so required it; yet he should think that he ill performed his duty, nor treated the distinctions with becoming respect, did he reject the occasional contributions of his friends, many of which will cost our Publisher much expense. He trusts, however, that in justice to the duties of his office, he shall be distinctly understood, when in explanation of his intentions, he says, that he attaches more value to vivid ideas, and their necessary attendant, a natural and forcible manner of writing, enlivened by the glow of warm perceptions, To than grave and heavy discussions, however original. He would avoid alike the characters of the pedant, the trifler, and the mere hunter after popularity, but cherish in his bosom those whose Are not like those of this earthly span ; BY DELTA. On! were I laid In the greenwood shade, Of eve, or the morning's silver dew! For all my dreams, My spirit would stray For ever away From the noise of strife, and the haunts of man. writings exhibit a feeling heart, who are enlightened by science, and warmed with philanthropy,---whose pieces are under the close and vigilant guidance of a chastened and refined taste. No style of composition is perhaps attained with Of the torrent will sing a lament for me; more difficulty by men of any sound I ask no dirge.- And the evening breeze, pretensions to the character of literary, Will murmur a mournful lullaby. than that which should prevail in such a journal as our own, and in such portions of it, as that of which we are now speaking; yet is no one perhaps of equal importance to the mass of its readers, and to persons undertaking the editorial duties of the cheap and popular periodicals of the present day. A style plain, yet not inelegant, level to the capacity of the young, the uneducated, and the unlettered, and yet pleasing to persons of the most cultivated Plant not-plant not--- Memorial stones for the stranger's gaze ; Oh! were I laid In the greenwood shade, A VISIT TO A POET'S GARRET. "In a parlour that's next to the sky." OLD SONG. " It was in the "first floor down the chimney;" the lodging that poets love, because nearer to the gods than the lower regions; where they may, at least, breathe the fresh air, and welcome the earliest kiss of Aurora. There were two of them, a bed, a table, and a couple of chairs in the apartment. When I entered, I heard them laughing heartily; and fancied they had that good cheer, which the wise man saith "maketh a light heart and a glad countenance." They had it not. They were sitting before the table, on which the moonlight came laughing through the roof; their wash-hand basin, and two wineglasses, were placed upon it, and it was with some surprise that I perceived they were filling the latter with water-the contents of the former. 'Ha, ha, ha," laughed the one, Tom, although your tragedy was not a sad one, it met a sad fate.' "True, Ned," said the other, "and nobody can say your farce was a thing to be laughed at; yet one would have thought the commonwealth had been in danger, the audience did so loudly hiss." "Vraiment," replied his companion, "but laughter was not my forte---I was just in the situation of a star-gazing philosopher, looking for jewels in the mud. I should have tried tragedy." 'Aye, and be damned for it, as I was," exclaimed Tom; "6 but, however, it was not my fault---all owing to the manager, who allowed me to kill but three; I had no chance of being saved, because I was not bloody enough; you know he cut out my best scene too, where I summoned the witches round the caldron--- See what a rent the envious Casca made,'---oh!" "And my Epic was lost," said Ned, "because the publisher grudged the money for advertisements; and, therefore, no newspaper would notice it. But, never mind, Tom, take another glass of Ambrosia, 'twill do ye no harm; and remember, that true magnanimity consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall,' 66 '---so said Goldsmith, who was starved into poetry, and yet he lauds to the skies the jade who could not procure him a dinner. We may rise yet." Aye, we have risen," answered Tom, "to the third story of a three-floored house; and this Ambrosia that you give me is as weak as water.' "Well, and Adam was happier when he drank it in Eden than when he pressed the grape between his sinful lips," argued Ned; "but come, let us, like the lion in the Pilgrim's Progress, "What, Thomas Little, or Moore, or Brown,---or brown little Thomas Moore, or whatever he may call himself,---the man who can catch the sunbeams! A sweeter poet never struck the lyre; and, of all men who ever visited Helicon, he has taken the deepest draught. In society, he is like one of his own beautiful lyrics---a thing that every one must enjoy. How sad that he should degrade his muse as he has lately done---'tis like the sun shining on a dunghill and gilding filth." "But of Campbell ?" A VISIT TO A POET'S GARRET. "He is like his White Doe,' now rambling over verdant meads, where all is beautifully productive; and now over unfruitful deserts and barren rocks. He was nearly lost when he sailed with Peter Bell' in his little boat;' and the whip of 'the Waggoner' scourged him, but the wounds were healed by his sonnet-salve." "And what do you think of Coleridge?" "A singularly wild and beautiful poet. But is Coleridge alive?" "Of Barry Cornwall?" "A sweet poet, but he writes in bed; rhymes and sips his coffee, sips his coffee and rhymes. In the evening he hangs a lamp to his ceiling, and pens a sonnet to the moon; makes up a scene between his footman and cook, and writes The Girl of Provence,'---that's imagination." "And, of Mrs. Hemans?" "Mrs. Hemans is another proof to the world that the soul is of no sex." "Of Bernard Barton, what do you think?" "And of Millman ?" "We'll not touch him. He's like a summer-cloud that showers down healing drops." "And what do you think of the Northamptonshire peasant, John Clare ?" "That he's the one bard' of the London Magazine, and as good a poet as Robert Bloomfield." "And of Leigh Hunt?" "Lord Byron's Jackall. The muses should put him in the pillory, and crown him there; and his laurels should be smokedried, and wet with fog instead of dew. His poetry resembles a necklace, in which a few jewels are mingled with so many false ones, that it is difficult to distinguish them." "Of Montgomery?" 209 "A very sweet poet, although he rhymes in a church-yard. But his thoughts are like the dry bones of Ezekiel, which the Deity clothed with sinews and flesh." Thus did this pair of garret-dwelling poetasters pass their evening in lying, slandering, and evil-speaking, of their betters. At length the one who was the most silent of the two, and who had acted as queryist, expostulated with his talkative brother, who quoted, in reply, the words of Shenstone, that an author is public property, who is bought and sold; and that, therefore, any person who purchases him, has a right to make what use he pleases of him. Ned objected to this doctrine; and, to shew that his practice agreed with his theory, sung the following doggrel verses; which, whatever else they may prove, proves most incontestably that Ned is no poet." Let's drink to the poets, let's drink to them, Tom-- Remember the bards are our brothers--In water as clear as the verses of some, And as poor as the verses of others. We are poets ourselves, and we'll let it be shew it. Here's Sir Walter, the Scott, who deserted his rhymes; And Crabbe, who his name and his nature should soften; Here's to Moore, who has publish'd a great many times, But who never yet publish'd too often; Here's to Campbell, whose verses are so lid as sweet, Here's to Coleridge, who sleeps till his mastiff bitch bark; Here's to Wordsworth, whose words are worth money; Here's to Procter, the clever but cock nified spark, Whose verses are like bread and honey. Here's the bard of the churchyard Montgomery hight; And Millman the churchman, who shines on the stage; Here's to Barton, who in eighty-four' saw the light, So tells us Time's Telescope---see eightieth page. These bards are our brothers; there are many others, No sons of our mothers, whate'er they may say, Who on yellow-wove paper cut many a caper, And burn their wax-taper, and then rhyme away. We'll not drink to those, of our delicate water, Who sell their sweet muse for a shilling to dine, To some man in the Row, who well knows, when he 's bought her, That for nine times the sum he might purchase the nine. But we'll drink to the fame now, of those we can't name now, Because it would shame now ourselves the same time, Mr. Sergeant Onslow's Bill for the repeal of the laws limiting the rate of interest, brought in and read a first time. 12. A society instituted at Glasgow, for the purpose of paying the expenses of persons prosecuted for libel. 15. Algiers blockaded by an English fleet. The causes of the war said to be insults offered to the English consul. 16. Debate in the House of CommonS on Mr. Sergeant Onslow's Bill for a repeal The second reading of the usury laws. carried by a majority of 97. An action brought by Byrne against Sheriff Parkins for subscriptions he had Two youths unimposing, who, while the received from the public on Byrne's ac world's dosing, Have thus been composing some prose and some rhyme. CHRONOLOGY FOR THE YEAR 1824. FEBRUARY. 2. News of the successes of the Greeks. 4. Mr. Canning lays upon the table of the House of Commons, a Convention between our King and the Emperor of Austria, by which the King agrees to receive the sum of 2,500,0001. sterling from the Emperor, in satisfaction of the whole of the British claims, amounting to 80,000,000l. sterling. 5. An insurrection of the troops in Callao. The place delivered up to the Spanish Royalists. 6. Died this morning, in the gaol at Demerara, where he had been confined since the 26th November, awaiting the final decision of his Majesty on his sentence of death for High Treason, in exciting the Negroes to rebellion, John Smith, the Missionary. His Majesty's pardon arrived in the colony while the unfortunate man was in the agonies of death. 11. Unexpected debate at the India House in consequence of supposed defal count, and a verdict recovered by Byrne, with 1941. 4s. 44d. damages. Count Schulenburg, a Hanoverian nobleman, run over and killed by a gentleman's carriage in Chandos Street. 18. Coron surrendered to the Greeks. The outworks of Lepanto also taken, on which occasion the English engineer officers particularly distinguish themselves. 20. The House of Commons, in a committee of supply, agree to a resolution, increasing the army by 4,650 additional men. A prospectus of a Greek Loan of 800,000l., brought forward under the sanction of the Greek Committee. The national property of Greece generally, the Custom House revenues, and the produces of the Salt Works and Fisheries specially, pledged for the payment of the loan. 22. A trigonometrical survey of Ireland in contemplation. It is proposed that a party of artillery should accompany the Engineers, as some surveyors taking points on the coasts of Ireland a short time before had been mistaken for Custom House officers, and most brutally ill treated. 24. Mr. J. Williams moves, in the House of Commons, that a select committee should be appointed to inquire into the fees and delays of the court of Chancery. The motion withdrawn, on the promise of Mr. Peel that government will appoint a commission to investigate the subject. |