No net of the fowler her wings can ensnare; May live in the bush, But the eagle's domain is as wide as the air! O to be fleet, like the stag of the mountain, That starts when the twilight has gilded the morn; While horses and hounds Follow fast with their loud-sounding yell and halloo; But the stag bounds afar when the hunters pursue. O to be strong like the oaks of the forest, That wave their green tops while the breezes blow high, In gardens and bowers, May sicken, when mildew has tainted the field; As the pride of our land, And to none but the arm of the lightning will yield. Then, free in the world as the far-soaring eagle, From goblet and pail, And we'll drink to the health of our comrades so dear; We'll fill up again; And thus live without sorrow, and die without fear. TICKLER. I used sometimes to think that North gave us too little poetry in the Magazine. I hope you will improve that department, notwithstanding your order of incremation. People like poetry in periodicals, even although they abuse it. Here's a little attempt of my own, Mr Editor-if I thought it could pass muster. SHEPHERD. Up with it. But don't, like Wordsworth, "murmur near the living brooks a music sweeter than their own." That is to say, no mouthing and singing, like a methodist minister. The Lake-poetry may require it, for it is a' sound, and nae sense: but yours is just the reverse o' that-Spout away, Southside. TICKLER. You know Campbell's fine song of the Exile of Erin?—I had it in my mind perhaps, during composition. TUNE-Erin Go Bragh. There stood on the shore of far distant Van Diemen, An ill-fated victim of handcuffs and chains, And sadly he thought on the country of freemen, Where the house-breaker thrives, and the pickpocket reigns; Recalling the scenes of his late avocation, Where once, ere the time of his sad transportation, Oh! hard is my fate, said the much-injur'd felon, Cut throats so genteelly, pick pockets so gayly, Oh! much-loved St Giles, even here in my sorrow, To the scenes of my youth, and the friends that deplore me, Where are my picklocks, my much-loved possession? Yet even in my grief, I would still give a trifle, Firm be each hand, and each bosom undaunted,- SHEPHERD. I have heard waur things than that; it's very amusing,-nay, it's eapital,and its turn may come roun in the Magazine in a year or twa. TICKLER. Allow me to express my gratitude. Have you seen, Mr Editor, Chambers's Traditions of Edinburgh? a most amusing series of numbers, full of the best kind of antiquarianism. It has had a great sale, and it well deserves it. Chambers is a modest and ingenious man. SHEPHERD. That he is; I hae kent him for many years. But is it not all about auld houses? Not at all. TICKLER. There is much droll information about life and manners, and characters now gone by to return no more. I understand that Sir Walter Scott and Charles Sharpe have both communicated anecdotes of the olden time, and that would stamp value upon a book of far inferior excellence. May I review it for an early number? SHEPHERD. Ou ay. But what noise is that? Do you hear ony noise in the lobby, Mr Tickler? Dot, Dot, Dot! Dinna you hear't? It's awfu'! This way. 0 Lord! it's Mr North, it's Mr North, and I am a dead man. I am gaun to be detecked in personating the Yeditor. I'll be hanged for forgery. Wae's me-Wae's me! Could I get into that press? or into ane o' the garde-duvins o' the side-board? Or maun I loup at ance ower the window, and be dash'd to a thousand pieces? VOL. XIX. 2 F TICKLER. Compose yourself, James, compose yourself. But what bam is this you have been playing off upon me? I thought North had resigned, and that you were, bona fide, editor? And I too! Am not I your Sub? What is this, Mount Benger? SHEPHERD. A sudden thocht strikes me. I'll put on the wig, and be the offisher frae the Castle. Paint my ee-brees wi' burned cork-fast, man, fast, the gouty auld deevil's at the door. TICKLER. That will do. On with your cloak. It may be said of you, as of the Palmer in Marmion, Ah! me, the mother that you bare, (Enter NORTH.) NORTH. Mr Tickler! Beg pardon, sir, a stranger. TICKLER. Allow me to introduce to you Major Moggridge, of the Prince's Own. NORTH. How do you do, Major-I am happy to see you. I have the honour of ranking some of my best friends among the military-and who has not heard of the character of your regiment? THE MAJOR (very short-sighted.) Na-how do you do, Mr North? 'Pon honour, fresh as a two-year old. Is it, indeed, the redoubtable Kit that I see before me? You must become a member of the United Service Club. We can't do without you. You served, I think, in the American war. Did you know Fayette or Washington, or Lee or Arnold? What sort of a looking fellow was Washington? NORTH. Why, Major-Washington was much such a good-looking fellow as yourself -making allowance for difference in dress-for he was a plain man in his apparel. But he had the same heroic expression of countenance-the same commanding eye and bold broad forehead. THE MAJOR. He didna mak as muckle use, surely, o' the Scottish decalec as me? NORTH. What is the meaning of this? I have heard that voice before-where am I? Excuse me, sir, but-but-why, Tickler, has Hogg a cousin, or a nephew, or a son in the Hussars? Major Moggridge, you have a strong resemblance to one of our most celebrated men, the Ettrick Shepherd-Are you in any way connected with the Hoggs? SHEPHERD (throwing off his disguise.) O ye Gawpus! Ye great Gawpus! It's me, man-it's me! tuts, man-dinna lose your temper-dinna you think I would mak a capital playactor? NORTH. Why, James, men at my time of life are averse to such waggeries. SHEPHERD. Averse to waggeries! You averse to waggeries? Then let us a' begin saying our prayers, for the end o' the world is at hand. Now, that's just the way baith wi' you and Mr Tickler. As lang as you get a' your ain way, and think you hae the laugh against the Shepherd, a's richt-and you keckle, and you craw, and you fling the straw frae ahint the heels o' you, just like game-cocks when about to gie battle. Vow, but you're crouse: but sae sune as I turn the tables on you, gegg you, as they would say in Glasgow-turn you into twa asses-and make you wonder if your lugs are touching the ceiling-but immediately you begin whimpering about your age and infirmities-immediately you baith draw up your mouths as if you had been eatin' sourocks-let down your jaws like so many undertakers, and propose being philosophical! Is na that the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? NORTH. I fear, James, you're not perfectly sober. SHEPHERD. If I am fou, sir, it's nae been at your expense. But, howsomever, here I am ready to dispute wi' you on ony subject, sacred or profane. I'll cowp you baith, ane after the ither. What sall it be? History, Philosophy, Theology, Poetry, Political Economy, Oratory, Criticism, Jurisprudence, Agriculture, Commerce, Manufactures, Establishments in Church and State, Cookery, Chemistry, Mathematics-OR MY MAGAZINE? Your Magazine? NORTH. SHEPHERD, (bursting into a guffaw.) O Mr North! O Mr North! what a fule I hae made o' Tickler. I made him believe that I was the Yeditor o' Blackwood's Magazine! The coof credited it; and gin you only heard hoo he abused you! He ca'd you the Archbishop of Toledo. You lie, Hogg! TICKLER. SHEPHERD. There's manners for you, Mr North. Puir, passionate cretur, I pity him, when I think o' the apology he maun mak to me in a' the newspapers. NORTH. No, no, my good Shepherd-be pacified, if he goes down here on his knees. SHEPHERD. Stop a wee while, till I consider. Na, ha; he maunna gang doun on his knees I couldna thole to see that. Then, I was wrang in saying he abused you. So let us baith say we were wrang, preceesely at the same moment. Gie the signal, Mr North. TICKLER, } I ask pardon. NORTH. Let us embrace. (Trio juncta in uno.) SHEPHERD. Hurra! hurra! hurra!-Noo for the Powldowdies. WORKS PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION. LONDON. House." Recent Discoveries in Africa, made in in the press, by one of the authors of the years 1822, 1823, and 1824, extend-"Rejected Addresses," is "Brambletye ing across the Great Desert, to the 10th degree of Northern latitude, and from Kouka, in Bornou, to Sockatoo, the capital of the Soudan empire. By Major Dixon Denham, of his Majesty's 17th regiment of foot, Captain Hugh Clapperton of the Royal Navy, (the survivors of the expedition,) and the late Dr Oudney. Tales round a Winter Hearth, by Misses Jane and Anne-Maria Porter, are announced. Mr Hallam's work, the Constitutional History of England, from the accession of Henry VII. to the death of George II. is in a state of considerable forwardness. Memoirs of the rival Houses of York and Lancaster, Historical and Biographical. By Emma Roberts. With a Portrait of Elizabeth of York. Voyages of Discovery, undertaken to complete the survey of the Western Coast of New Holland between the years 1817 and 1822, are announced. By Philip Parker King, R. N. With maps, charts, views of interesting scenery, &c. Mr J. H. Wiffen announces "The Spanish Anthology," being a translation of the choicest specimens of the Spanish Poets, with their Biographical Notices. To be printed uniform with the works of Garcilasso. The author of the Banks of Tamar has in the press, Dartmoor, a descriptive poem. Dr Southey is preparing for the press two volumes, to be entitled, Sir Thomas More, being a series of Colloquies on the Progress and Prospects of Society. With Engravings. The Eighth Part of "The Progresses of King James I.," is just ready. A Complete Collection of Memoirs relative to the History of Great Britain, with Notes and Illustrations. By a Literary Society. A System of Geography for the Use of Schools, on an entirely New Plan; in which the recent Alterations in the Division of the Continent are carefully attended to. By Thomas Keith. The History of Richard the Third, King of England. By Sir George Buck. Now first printed entire from the original Manuscript, with the Notes collected for publication by the late Charles Yarnold, Esq. and Additional Illustrations, by S. W. Singer, F.S. A. with a Portrait of Richard, from an original Picture. A Work in Three Volumes, to be entitled the Travellers, or Adventures on the Continent, is announced. Mrs Hemans has a New Work on the eve of Publication, to be entitled the "Forest Sanctuary." It is the History of a Spanish exile, who flies from the religious persecution of his native country, and takes refuge in the forests of Ame The Rev. B. W. Hamilton has in the rica. press, An Essay on Craniology. The Prospect, and other Poems, will soon appear. The Conway Papers, from the Collection of the Marquis of Hertford, will soon make their appearance, in 5 vols. Mr Colnaghi is preparing for the press, a Catalogue of Engraved British Portraits, from the earliest period. Originally compiled by Henry Bromley; greatly increased from Manuscripts left by the late Mr Richardson, and continued to the present time. With an Appendix, containing extensive lists of Original Pictures of Historical Characters, and references to Collections in which they are preserved, from MSS, of the late Sir William Musgrave, and from the Manuscript Catalogue from which Mr Lodge's collection has been formed. The name of the novel which is now Mr Spence is about to publish an Inquiry into the Origin of the Laws and Political Institutions of modern Europe, and in particular of those of England. A Second Series in Three Volumes, (which will complete the Work) of Original Letters, Illustrative of English History; including numerous Royal Letters, from Autographs in the British Muscum, and one or two other Collections. With Notes and Illustrations by Henry Ellis, F. R.S. Sec. S. A. Keeper of the Manuscripts in the British Museum, is in the press. The Wilmot Papers.-Papers and Collections of Sir Robert Wilmot, Bart., sometime Secretary to the Lord Lieutenants of Ireland. A Practical Treatise on Life Assurance is announced by Mr Frederick Blayney. |