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THE POWER OF BEAUTY: a Syrian
165 JERRY SNEAK's Letter to the Editor
Ballad . ......
176 on SHAKSPEARE's Ghosts...... 115 ON THE COOKERY of the FRENCH, An Address to Echo ...
with a Poem ......
JOURNAL of an EXCURSION to the ROBERT BURNS and LORD BYRON 117
FIVE ISLANDS and SHOAL HAVEN, EXCERPTA ANTIQUARIA: M18
on the Coast of New SouthWALES 181 CELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES:
184 Queen Elizabeth......
188 Richard Cromwell..
GOETHE. Wilhelm Meister's ApDREAMS : Felon's Hill-Windy Ho prenticeship ...
189 vel—The Violets ...
THE DRAMA:Married and Single A Storm ...
- Monkey Island-Der FreysOLD ENGLISH DRAMA:_The Se
197 cond Maiden's Tragedy... ..... 133 ON CLENCHES. With a Sonnet ... 201 TROPICAL RECOLLECTIONS :
REPORT of Music.
202 The Indian's Tale..
DISCOVERY of BRISBANE RIVER, The Idler's Epistle to John Clare. ... 143 in New South Wales .......
205 REVIEW:-Bacon's Elements of Vo.
Sketch of Foreign Literature. 206 cal Science ....
VIEW OF PUBLIC AFFAIRS, AgriSCHILLER'S LIFE AND WRITINGS.
culture, Commerce ..
209 Part III.......
Literary Intelligence, and List of Books On a Picture
.....217–219 Sonnet, The Return of Time.. 163 Ecclesiastical Preferments
219 Stanzas to
164 | Births, Marriages, and Deaths. ..219, 220
PRINTED FOR TAYLOR AND HESSEY.
THE LION'S HEAD.
The following letter from Jerry Sneak (which we suppose is the English for Horrida Bella) appears to put an end to the correspondence, though not to the matter in dispute ;-—the former of which, in truth, is all we care for. We ourselves are indifferent, whether the ghosts are light as a consumptive guinea, or fit to “go to scale” with the Swiss Giantess. The size and substance of a ghost might, perhaps, be expected to depend on its founder-surely the step of Falstaff « after death” would be an ounce heavier than that of Romeo's Apothecary. We beg, however, to be understood as expressing no decided opinion on the subject; though we own we should be glad to know that Shakspeare's spirits, like Mr. Polito's lions, had their “ feeding time.”
To the Editor of the London Magazine. RESPECTED SIR,—I regret to see by your last Number, that the Author of the Ghost-player's Guide is extremely angry with me for the letter I ventured to address to you on Shakspeare's lusty ghosts. I should be sorry to irritate so sensible a critic, from an apprehension that he might make a subject of me, and I therefore would rather, if he insisted on it, “ give up the ghost ” in his favour. I so dread also lest your readers should be weary of our “ intestine war,” and hiss us both off the stage that I would consent rather that the poor things should be spirits and water, as your Guide insists on their being, than full-proof spirits that are good against the morning air, as Shakspeare intended them. Let them keep nine feet from the lamps, by four and a half from the wings, if your critic “ will have it so." I have six-and-twenty beautiful extracts from Shakspeare, all adding to the bowels of the Etherials, and to the forwardness of their visits,-but I fear you will not pay for them in my article, and I like, in selling my meat, to have the bone weighed in. Your correspondent and my antagonist is hard upon my want of brain, and principle, and wit, and so forth; and rails in singular set' terms on my naughty inconstancy of argument. I can only say I regret he has not taken my view of the subject in that serious light in which I intended it. I wished to speak solidly on the thickribbed spirits-and if he, like his own ghosts, ‘has no bowels—for fair reasoning and strong proof,—it is my misfortune and his fault. I do not like to be obstinate, and therefore shall myself be silent,—but would you ask your friend what sort of a ghost Falstaff makes ?-Is there a falling off in him? Does he no longer tallow in the spiritual kidney ? Apologizing for again molesting you and yours, and with the best wishes for your able and sensitive critic's fatness in this world and thinness in the world to come, I am yours, very kindly, for Horrida Bella,
What will Echo say to the insertion of the following stanzas, which appear to have caught her babbling ladyship in a talkative mood ?-Does she ever reply to print ?-She does,—we suppose, occasionally,—when she meets with a worthy temptation.— Is not a second edition something like her voice? In the following address the questions are well put and quaintly
answered ;-only, here and there, Echo catches a syllable, which does not occur to our ears as one that should be replied to:-Echo however may be particular.
AN ADDRESS TO THE ECHO.
Echo-I wonder !
Echo-A proper tye !
Echo-Come plain then !
Echo-You'd see Sir!
Echo-Then lick her!
The youthful writer of the verses “ Farewell” and “On the Death of Clara," must not think of publishing. He may take our word (whatever his good-natured friends may say to the contrary) that at present he merely rhymes.
We do not “ want a Correspondent in H. W. B.'s way." His verse is not poetry-his language is not grammatical :
Then take up the lyre which has long been forsaken,
Its chords are not broke, though so silent it lays."
Among the communications we are obliged to reject, are the following:My first gray Hair.-D.'s Lines.--Letter on the Drama.-Stanzas on Beauty.—The Likeness.-Meditations on a Marrow Bone.
ROBERT BURNS AND LORD BYRON. I HATE seen Robert Burns laid in The first time I ever saw Burns his grave, and I have seen George was in Nithsdale. I was then a Gordon Byron borne to his; of both child, but his looks and his voice I wish to speak, and my words shall cannot well be forgotten; and while be spoken with honesty and freedom. I write this I behold him as distinctThey were great though not equally as I did when I stood at my faheirs of fame; the fortunes of their ther's knee, and heard the bard rebirth were widely dissimilar; yet in peat his Tam O'Shanter. He was their passions and in their genius they tall and of a manly make, his brow approached to a closer resemblance; broad and high, and his voice varied their careers were short and glorious, with the character of his inimitable and they both perished in the sum- tale ; yet through all its variations it mer of life, and in all the splendour was melody itself. He was of great of a reputation more likely to increase personal strength, and proud too of than diminish. One was a peasant, displaying it; and I have seen him and the other was a peer; but Nature lift a load with ease, which few oris a great leveller, and makes amends dinary men would have willingly unfor the injuries of fortune by the rich- dertaken. ness of her benefactions; the genius The first time I ever saw Byron of Burns raised him to a level with was in the House of Lords, soon after the nobles of the land; by nature if the publication of Childe Harold. not by birth, he was the peer of By- He stood up in his place on the op
I knew one, and I have seen position side, and made a speech on both; I have hearkened to words from the subject of Catholic freedom. His their lips, and admired the labours voice was low, and I heard him but of their pens, and I am now, and by fits, and when I say likely to remain, under the influence witty and sarcastic, I judge as much of their magic songs. They rose by from the involuntary mirth of the the force of their genius, and they benches as from what I heard with my fell by the strength of their passions; own ears. His voice had not the full one wrote from a love, and the other and manly melody of the voice of from a scorn, of mankind; and they Burns; nor had he equal vigour of both sang of the emotions of their frame, nor the same open expanse of own hearts with a vehemence and an forehead. But his face was finely originality which few have equalled, formed, and was impressed with a and none surely have surpassed. But more delicate vigour than that of the it is less my wish to draw the charac- peasant poet. He had a singular ters of those extraordinary men than conformation of ear, the lower lobe, to write what I remember of them; instead of being pendulous, grew and I will say nothing that I know down and united itself to the cheek not to be true, and little but what I and resembled no other ear I ever saw myself.
saw, save that of the Duke of WelAug. 1824.