In silent indignation mix'd with grief, Link'd with the fool that fired the Ephesian dome, In many a branding page and burning line; "So let him stand, through ages yet unborn, Fix'd statue on the pedestal of Scorn; Though not for him alone Revenge shall wait, But fits thy country for her coming fate: Hers were the deeds that taught her lawless son To do what oft Britannia's self had done. Look to the Baltic-blazing from afar, Your old ally yet mourns perfidious war.(2) Not to such deeds did Pallas lend her aid, Or break the compact which herself had made; Far from such councils, from the faithless field She fled but left behind her Gorgon shield: A fatal gift that turn'd your friends to stone, And left lost Albion hated and alone. "Look to the East, where Ganges' swarthy race Shall shake your tyrant empire to its base; Lo! there Rebellion rears her ghastly head, And glares the Nemesis of native dead; Fill Indus rolls a deep purpureal flood, And claims his long arrear of northern blood. So may ye perish!-Pallas, when she gave Your free-born rights, forbade ye to enslave. "Look on your Spain!-she clasps the hand she hates, But coldly clasps, and thrusts you from her gates. "Look last at home-ye love not to look there- No misers tremble when there's nothing left. Italy to England may, perhaps, do honour to the late Lord Bristol's patriotism or to his magnificence; but it cannot be considered as an indication of either taste or judgment." -Ibid. (1) "That the Elgin marbles will contribute to the improvement of art in England cannot be doubted. They must certainly open the eyes of the British artists, and prove that the true and only road to simplicity and beauty is the study of nature. But, had we a right to diminish the interest of Athens for selfish motives, and prevent successive generations of other nations from seeing those admirable sculp But one, repentant o'er a bankrupt state, "Now fare ye well! enjoy your little hour; Show me the man whose counsels may have weight. And light with maddening hands the mutual pile. ""Tis done, 'tis past, since Pallas warns in vain; The Furies seize her abdicated reign: Wide o'er the realm they wave their kindling brands, And wring her vitals with their fiery hands. But one convulsive struggle still remains, And Gaul shall weep ere Albion wear her chains. The banner'd pomp of war, the glittering files, O'er whose gay trappings stern Bellona smiles; The brazen trump, the spirit-stirring drum, That bid the foe defiance ere they come; The hero bounding at his country's call, The glorious death that consecrates his fall, Swell the young heart with visionary charms, And bid it antedate the joys of arms. But know, a lesson you may yet be taught, With death alone are laurels cheaply bought: Not in the conflict Havoc seeks delight, His day of mercy is the day of fight. But when the field is fought, the battle won, Though drench'd with gore, his woes are but begun: His deeper deeds as yet ye know by name; The slaughter'd peasant and the ravish'd dame, The rifled mansion and the foe-reap'd field, Ill suit with souls at home, untaught to yield. Say with what eye, along the distant down, Would flying burghers mark the blazing town? tures? The Temple of Minerva was spared as a beacon to the world, to direct it to the knowledge of purity of taste. What can we say to the disappointed traveller, who is now deprived of the rich gratification which would have compensated his travel and his toil? It will be little consolation to him to say, he may find the sculpture of the Parthenon in England." H. W. Williams.-L. E. The affair of Copenhagen.-L. E. (3) "Blest paper credit! last and best supply, That lends Corruption lighter wings to fly !"- Pope. (4) The Deal and Dover traffickers in specie. How view the column of ascending flames (!) "The beautiful but barren Hymettus, the whole coast of Attica, her hills and mountains, Pentelicus, Anchesmus, Philopappus, etc. etc. are in themselves poetical; and would be so if the name of Athens, of Athenians, and her very ruins, were swept from the earth. But am I to be told that the nature of Attica would be more poetical without the 'art' of the Acropolis? of the Temple of Theseus? and of the still all Greek and glorious monuments of her exquisitely Artificial genius? Ask the traveller what strikes him as most poetical, the Parthenon, or the rock on which it stands? The COLUMNS of Cape Colonna, or the Cape itself? The rocks at the foot of it, or the recollection that Fal- | Now should they burst on thy devoted coast, coner's ship was bulged upon them? There are a thousand rocks and capes far more picturesque than those of the Acropolis and Cape Sunium in themselves. But it is the 'art,' the columns, the temples, the wrecked vessel, which give them their antique and their modern poetry, and not the spots themselves. I opposed, and will ever oppose, the robbery of ruins from Athens, to instruct the English in sculpture; but why did I do so? The ruins are as poetical in Piccadilly as they were in the Parthenon; but the Parthenon and its rock are less so without them. Such is the poetry of art." B. Letters, 1821.-L. E. TO THE PUBLISHER. SIR,-I am a country gentleman of a midland county. I might have been a parliament-man for a certain borough; having had the offer of as many votes as General T. at the general election in 1812.(2) But I was all for domestic happiness; as, fifteen years ago, on a visit to London, I married a middle-aged maid of honour. We lived happily at Hornem Hall till last season, when my wife and I were invited by the Countess of Waltzaway (a distant relation of my spouse) to pass the winter in town. Thinking no harm, and our girls being come to a marriageable (or, as they call it, marketable) age, and having besides a Chancery suit inveterately entailed upon the family estate, we came up in our old chariot,—of which, by the by, my wife grew so much ashamed in less than a week, that I was obliged to buy a second-hand barouche, of which I might mount the box, Mrs. H. says, if I could drive, but never see the inside-that place being reserved for the Honourable Augustus Tiptoe, her partner-general and opera-knight. Hearing great praises of Mrs. H.'s.dancing (she was famous for birthnight minuets in the latter end of the last century), I unbooted, and went to a ball at the Countess's, expecting to see a country dance, or, at most, (1) This trifle was written at Cheltenham, in the autumn of 1812, and published anonymously in the spring of the following year. It was not very well received at the time by the public; and the author was by no means anxious that it should be considered as his handiwork. "I hear," he says, in a letter to a friend, "that a certain malicious publication on waltzing is attributed to me. This report, I suppose, you will take care to contradict; as the author, I am sure, will not like that I should wear his cap and bells."-L. E. cotillions,_ reels, and all the old paces to the newest tunes. But judge of my surprise, on arriving, to see poor dear Mrs. Hornem with her arms half round the loins of a huge hussar-looking gentleman I never set eyes on before; and his, to say truth, rather more than half round her waist, turning round, and round, and round, to a d- -d see-saw up-and-down sort of tune, that reminded me of the "Black joke," only more "affettuoso," till it made me quite giddy with wondering they were not so. By-and-by they stopped a bit, and I thought they would sit or fall down:but no; with Mrs. H.'s hand on his shoulder, "quam familiariter" (3) (as Terence said, when I was at school), they walked about a minute, and then at it again, like two cockchafers spitted on the same bodkin. I asked what all this meant, when, with a loud laugh, a child no older than our Wilhelmina (a name I never heard but in the Vicar of Wakefield, though her mother would call her after the Princess of Swappenbach,) said, "Lord! Mr. Hornem, can't you see they are valtzing?" or waltzing (I forget which); and then up she got, and her mother and sister, and away they went, and round-abouted it till supper-time. Now, that I know what it is, I like it of all things, and so does Mrs. H. (though I have broken my shins, and four times overturned Mrs. Hornem's maid, in practising the preliminary steps in a morning). Indeed, State of the poll (last day), 5. My Latin is all forgotten, if a man can be said to have forgotten what he never remembered; but I bought my title-page motto of a Catholic priest for a three-shilling bank token, after much haggling for the even sixpence. I grudged the money to a papist, being all for the memory of Perceval and "No popery," and quite regretting the downfall of the pope, because we can't burn him any more. so much do I like it, that having a turn for rhyme, tastily displayed in some election ballads, and songs in honour of all the victories (but till lately I have had little practice in that way), I sat down, and with the aid of William Fitzgerald, Esq., (1) and a few hints from Dr. Busby, (2) (whose recitations I attend, and am monstrous fond of Master Busby's manner of delivering his father's late successful Drury Lane Address), I composed the following hymn, wherewithal to make my sentiments known to the public; whom, nevertheless, I heartily depise, as well as the critics. I am, Sir, yours, etc. etc. HORACE HORNEM. THE WALTZ. MUSE of the many-twinkling feet! (3) whose charms Far be from thee and thine the name of prude; Thy breast-if bare enough-requires no shield; Hail, nimble nymph! to whom the young hussar, Hail, moving Muse! to whom the fair one's breast Gives all it can, and bids us take the rest. (1) See antè, p. 49.-P. E. See Rejected Addresses.-L. E. (3) "Glance their many-twinkling feet."-Gray. (4) To rival Lord Wellesley's, or his nephew's, as the reader pleases :-the one gained a pretty woman, whom he deserved, by fighting for; and the other has been fighting in the Peninsula many a long day, "by Shrewsbury clock," without gaining any thing in that country but the title of "the Great Lord," and "the Lord;" which savours of profanation, having been hitherto applied only to that Being to whom "Te Deums" for carnage are the rankest blasphemy. It is to be presumed the General will one day return to his Sabine farm; there "To tame the genius of the stubborn plain, The Lord Peterborough conquered continents in a summer; we do more-we contrive both to conquer and lose them in a shorter season. If the "great Lord's" Cincinnatian progress in agriculture be no speedier than the proportional average of time in Pope's couplet, it wili, according to the farmer's proverb, be " ploughing with dogs." By the by-one of this illustrious person's new titles is forgotten-it is, however, worth remembering-"Salvador del mundo!" credite posteri! If this be the appellation annexed by the inhabitants of the Peninsula to the name of a man who has not yet saved them-query-are they worth saving, even in this world? for, according to the mildest Oh! for the flow of Busby, or of Fitz, Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine Oh, Germany! how much to thee we owe, We bless thee still-for George the Third is left! Who owe us millions-don't we owe the queen? But peace to her-her emperor and diet, Borne on the breath of hyperborean gales, From Hamburg's port (while Hamburg yet had mails), Ere yet unlucky Fame-compell'd to creep To snowy Gottenburg-was chill'd to sleep; Or, starting from her slumbers, deign'd arise, Heligoland! to stock thy mart with lies; While unburnt Moscow (6) yet had news to send, Nor owed her fiery exit to a friend, Yet modifications of any Christian creed, those three words make the odds much against them in the next.-"Saviour of the world," quotha!-it were to be wished that he, or any one else, could save a corner of it-his country. this stupid misnomer, although it shows the near connection between superstition and impiety, so far has its use, that it' proves there can be little to dread from those Catholics (inquisitorial Catholics too) who can confer such an appellation on a Protestant. I suppose next year he will be entitled the "Virgin Mary:" if so, Lord George Gordon himself would have nothing to object to such liberal bastards of our Lady of Babylon. (5) Among the addresses sent into the Drury Lane Com. mittee (see antè, p. 49) was one by Dr. Busby, which began by asking "When energising objects men pursue, What are the prodigies they cannot do?"-L. E. (6) The patriotic arson of our amiable allies cannot be sufficiently commended-nor subscribed for. Amongst other details omitted in the various despatches of our eloquent ambassador, he did not state (being too much occupied with the exploits of Colonel C, in swimming rivers frozen, and galloping over roads impassable), that one entire province perished by famine in the most melancholy manner, as follows:-In General Rostopchin's consummate conflagration, the consumption of tallow and train oil was so great that the market was inadequate to the demand: and thus She came Waltz came-and with her certain sets Fraught with this cargo-and her fairest freight, To you, ye husbands of ten years! whose brows Ache with the annual tributes of a spouse; To you of nine years less, who only bear The budding sprouts of those that you shall wear, With added ornaments around them roll'd Of native brass, or law-awarded gold; To you, ye matrons, ever on the watch To mar a son's, or make a daughter's, match; To you, ye children of whom chance accordsAlways the ladies, and sometimes their lords; To you, ye single gentlemen, who seek Torments for life, or pleasures for a week; As love or Hymen your endeavours guide, To gain your own, or snatch another's bride;To one and all the lovely stranger came, And every ball-room echoes with her name. Endearing Waltz!-to thy more melting tune Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon. Scotch reels, avaunt! and country-dance, forego Your future claims to each fantastic toe! Waltz-Waltz alone-both legs and arms demands, Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands; one hundred and thirty-three thousand persons were starved to death, by being reduced to wholesome diet! The lamplighters of London have since subscribed a pint (of oil) a piece, and the tallow-chandlers have unanimously voted a quantity of best moulds (four to the pound), to the relief of the surviving Scythians;-the scarcity will soon, by such exertions, and a proper attention to the quality rather than the quantity of provision, be totally alleviated. It is said, in return, that the untouched Ukraine has subscribed sixty thousand beeves for a day's meal to our suffering manufacturers. I (1) Dancing-girls-who do for hire what Waltz doth gratis. (2) It cannot be complained now, as in the Lady Baus. sière's time, of the "Sieur de la Croix," that there be "no whiskers;" but how far these are indications of valour in the field, or elsewhere, may still be questionable. Much may be, and hath been, avouched on both sides. In the olden time philosophers had whiskers, and soldiers noneScipio himself wae shaven-Hannibal thought his one eye Hands which may freely range in public sight Observant travellers of every time! Shades of those belles whose reign began of yore, Seductive Waltz!-though on thy native shore Even Werter's self proclaim'd thee half a whore; Werter-to decent vice though much inclined, Yet warm, not wanton; dazzled, but not blindThough gentle Genlis, in her strife with Staël, Would even proscribe thee from a Paris ball; The fashion hails-from countesses to queens, And maids and valets waltz behind the scenes: Wide and more wide thy witching circle spreads, And turns-if nothing else—at least our heads; With thee even clumsy cits attempt to bounce, And cockneys practise what they can't pronounce. Gods! how the glorious theme my strain exalts, And rhyme finds partner rhyme in praise of Waltz! Blest was the time Waltz chose for her début; The court, the Regent, like herself were new; (3) handsome enough without a beard; but Adrian, the emperor, wore a beard (having warts on his chin, which neither the Empress Sabina nor even the courtiers could abide)-Turenne had whiskers, Marlborough none-Buonaparte is unwhiskered, the Regent whiskered; argal" greatness of mind and whiskers may or may not go together: but certainly the different occurrences, since the growth of the last mentioned, go further in behalf of whiskers than the anathema of Anselm did against long hair in the reign of Henry 1.-Formerly red was a favourite colour. See Lodowick Barrey's comedy of Ram Alley, 1661; Act I. Scene I. "Taffeta. Now for a wager-What coloured beard comes next by the window? "Adriana. A black man's, I think. "Taffeta. I think not so: I think a red, for that is most in fashion." There is "nothing new under the sun;" but red, then a favourite, has now subsided into a favourite's colour. (3) An anachronism - Waltz and the battle of Austerlitz New face for friends, for foes some new rewards; Pleased round the chalky floor how well they trip, are before said to have opened the ball together: the bard means (if he means anything), Waltz was not so much in vogue till the Regent attained the acme of his popularity. Waltz, the comet, whiskers, and the new government, illuminated heaven and earth, in all their glory, much about the same time: of these the comet only has disappeared; the other three continue to astonish us still.-Printer's Devil. (1) Among others a new ninepence-a creditable coin now forthcoming, worth a pound, in paper, at the fairest calculation. (2) "Oh that right should thus overcome might!" Who does not remember the "delicate investigation" in the Merry Wives of Windsor?— "Ford. Pray you, come near: if I suspect without cause, why then make sport of me; then let me be your jest; I deserve it. How now? whither bear you this? "Mrs. Ford. What have you to do whither they bear it? -you were best meddle with buck-washing." (3) The gentle, or ferocious, reader may fill up the blank as he pleases-there are several dissyllabic names at his service (being already in the Regent's): it would not be fair to back any peculiar initial against the alphabet, as every month will add to the list now entered for the sweepstakes:-a distinguished consonant is said to be the favourite, much against the wishes of the knowing ones. (4) "We have changed all that," says the Mock Doctor'tis all gone-Asmodeus knows where. After all, it is of (Or if for that impartial print too late, Till some might marvel, with the modest Turk, Fitzpatrick, Sheridan, (6) and many more! And thou, my prince! whose sovereign taste and will Thou ghost of Queensberry! whose judging sprite To teach the young ideas how to rise, But ye-who never felt a single thought For what our morals are to be, or ought; Who wisely wish the charms you view to reap, Say-would you make those beauties quite so cheap? Hot from the hands promiscuously applied, Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side, Where were the rapture then to clasp the form From this lewd grasp and lawless contact warm? At once love's most endearing thought resign, To press the hand so press'd by none but thine; To gaze upon that eye which never met Another's ardent look without regret; Approach the lip which all, without restraint, Come near enough—if not to touch-to taint; If such thou lovest-love her then no more, Or give like her-caresses to a score; no great importance how women's hearts are disposed of; they have nature's privilege to distribute them as absurdly as possible. But there are also some men with hearts so thoroughly bad, as to remind us of those phenomena often mentioned in natural history; viz. a mass of solid stoneonly to be opened by force-and when divided, you discover a toad in the centre, lively, and with the reputation of being venomous. (5) In Turkey a pertinent, here an impertinent and super. fluous, question-literally put, as in the text, by a Persian to Morier, on seeing a waltz in Pera.-Vide Morier's Travels. (6) "I once heard Sheridan repeat, in a ball-room, some verses, which he had lately written on waltzing; and of which I remember the following: With tranquil step, and timid, downcast glance For so the law 's laid down by Baron Trip' This gentleman, whose name suits so aptly as a legal autho rity on the subject of waltzing, was, at the time these verses were written, well known in the dancing circles."-Moore. -L. E. |