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Star of the mild and placid seas,

Till on some neighb'ring mountain's brow
Whom rainbow rays of inerey crowni,

He stops, and turns his eyes below;
Whose name thy faithiui Portuguese

There, melting at the well-known view,
O'er all that to the depths go down,

Drops a last tear and bids adau;
With hymns of grateful transport own ;

So I thus doomed from thee to part,
When gathering clouds obscure their iight,

Gay queen of fancy and of art,
And heaven assumes an awful frown,

Reluctant move with doubtful mind,
The star of Ocean glitters bright,

Oft stop, and often look behind !
Ave Maris Stella !

Companion of my tender age,

Serenely gay and sweetly sag,
Star of the deep! when angel lyres

How blithesome were we wont to rove,
To hymn thy holy name essay,

By verunnt hills or shady grove :
In vain a mortal harp aspire's

Where fervent bees with hurnming voice
To mingle in the mighty lay !

Around the honied oak rejoice;
Mother of God! one living ray

And aged elms with awful bend of hope our grateful bosoms fires

In long cathedral walks extand.
When storins and tempests pass away,

Lulled by the lapse of gliding floods-
To join the bright immortal quiras.

Cheered by the warbling of the woods ;
Ave Maris Stella !

How blest my days, my thoughts how free, ROBERT BURTON BORX, FEB. 8, 1576. In sweet society with thee! 'The celebrated author of the Avalony

Then all was joyous-all was young,

And years unheeded rolled along. of Melancholy, a book full of all such

But now the pleasing dreams are o'er, reading as never was read,' and the These scenes must charm me now no more ! only one which Dr. Johnson said Lost to the field and torn from you would induce hiin to rise at six o'clock

Farewel! a long--a last adieu !

Me wrangling courts and stubborn lato jo the morning to peruse.

To smoke and crowds, and cities drav ; DR. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN DIED, FEB. 8,

There selfish faction rules the day, 1815, ÆT. 19.

And pride and av'rice throng the way;

Diseases taint the murky air, With the name of Dr. Buchanan

And midnight conflagrations glare : will ever be associated the cause of Loose revelry and riot bold promoting Christianity in lojia. He

In frighted strerts their orgies bold;

Or when in silence all is drowned, was a rare instance of zeal, judgment,

Fell murder walks her lonely round: and munificence. His • Christan Re.

No room for peace--no room for you: searches' in Asia is a most interesting Adieu, celestiai nymphs, adieu ! work ; and his prizes for promouing a knowledge of the state of India. by MARTIN LUTHER DIED, FEB. 18, 1515. calling attention to the couvery aud its While the bull of Leo X. executed circumstances, evinced a princely sen. by Charles V. was thundering ibrougherosity. His Three Discourses on the out the empire, Luther was sately shut Jubilee show him to have been the up in his castle (of Willemberg, wbere cbristian and the patriot.

he had been secreted by the Elector of SIR W.BLACKSTONE DIED, FEB.14,1780.

Saxony), which he alterwards called The learned author of Commenta

his Hermitage and bis Paunos. Here ries on the Laws of England,' wbich

be held a constant correspondence with are at once celebrated for the perspi

bis friends at Wittemberg, and was cuity and elegance of their style, and

employed in composing books in 1a(generally speaking) for their sound

vour of his own cause, and against his and constitutional principles. He is a

· adversaries. He did not, however, so charged, however, with softening some

closely contine bimself, but ibat be frepassages in bis first edition, to make

quentiy made excursions into the neigh

bourhood, though always under some them more agreeable to the crown lawyers. His • Farewel to the Muse' con

disguise or other. One day he assutains some pleasing lines. We seh ct

med the title and appearance of a nothe following:

bleman : but it may be supposed that

he did not act his part very gracefully ; PAREWEL TO THE MUSE.

for a gentleman who attended him unAs by some tyrant's stern command,

der that character to an ion upon the A wretch forsakes his native land,

road, was, it seems, so fearful of a disIn foreign climes condemned to roam, covery, that be thought it necessary to An endiess exile from his home ; ,

caution him against that absence of Pensive he trends the destined way, And dreads to go, nor dares to stay :

mind peculiar to literary men ; bidding

VOL. 4.]
Original Poetry.

367 him keep close to his sword, without animale to death with dogs, very much retaking the least notice of books, if by morir of books if he semble the devil, who, by crafty wiles and

the instruments of wicked priest, i, perpetchance any should fall in his way.'* ually seeking whom he may deyour? Again:

(For farther remarkable days in February, see we happened to take a leveret alive, which Atheneum, Vol. 2, p. 354, &c.}

I put into my pocket, with an intent to pre# He used soinetimes even to go out a bunt- serve it; yet we were not gone far before ing with those few who were in the secret : tlie dogs seized upon it, as it was in niy which, however, we may imagine, he did pocket, and worried it. Just so the pope more for health thao for pleasure, as, indeed, and the devil rage furiously to destroy the may be collected from his own curious ac- souls that I have saved, in spite of all my count of it. I was,' says he, lately two endeavours to prevent them. To short, I am days a hunting, in which amusement I found tired of huuting these little innocent beasts; both pleasure and pain. We killed a brace and had rather be employed, as I have been of hares, and took some whappy partridges; for some time, in spearing bears, wolves, a very pretty employmept truly for an idle tigers, and foxes; that is, in opposing and man! However, I could not forbear theolo- confounding wicked and impious divines, gizing arnidst dogs and pets ; for, thought I who resemble savage animals in their qualto myself, do not we, in hunting innocent ities.'

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from the Literary Gazette.

Here, on May mornings, you may hear the

* Thrush A HAUNTED STREAM..

Pour, froin his silver throat,sweet music; and, “ of objects all inanimate I made

’Neath summer stars, the Nightingale---(for Ido!s."-Byron.

she

Is queen of all earth's choristers, and holds TT is perhaps a fable ---yet the hind

Acquaintance with the eveniog winds, which 1 Tells it with reverence; and, at times, I

wart her deem The tale allied to truth.---They say yon brook

Sweettidings from the rose)--- The Stockdove That circles with its silver arms that grove.

here

Breathes berdeep note complaining, till the Of forest trees, is---haunted :---nay,you smile;

air But I was born beside it, and througlı life--- Se

· Seems touch'd, and all the woods and hollows, A ye, midst the jarrings of this bitter world

sighing, To pain---id calumny---my mind hatlo dwelt

Prolong the sound to sadness.--Hark! a noise

Prol
Upon this stream, as on some boly thought.
See where it wanders from its mo-sy cave, Jook upon these “ yellow sands,"
And toward the dark wood, like a bashful Coloured by no mortal bands :
thing

Look upon ihis grassy bank,
Surprised, runs trembling as for succour.-- Crown'd with flow'rs and osiers dank,
Look!

Whereon the milk-white beifers feed;
Such streams as these did Dian loye, and such (White as if of lo's breed.)

ds of old frequented ---Still its fare Look upon these glassy waters, 1, clear as truth; and yet--itroams like error. Where earth's lovelie:t daughters In former tincs, rivers were celebrate; Bathe their limbs aud foreheads fair, One told how Achelöus dived heneath

And wring their dark and streaming hair. Sirilsan seas, to meet his nymphdivine (The blue Arethusa ; )---one (the loftiest')

--- HERE, if on summer nights you stray,

Wheo rolls the bright and orbeu moon The rough Scamander; oh,and how he rushed,

Thro' the sultry skies of June, and mingled with Troy fight---and some did

You will see the Spirits play,

And all the Fays keep holiday :-.. tell of Aganippe's fount---of Hippocrene,

Think not that 'tis but a dıram: And Simuis, and .immortal Castaly.'...

For l (the Naiad of the stream)

Have often by the pale moonlight, Come then, my streain! and I will sing of S.en thein dancing---joyous.--light. thee :

Soine (heedless of the midnight hours)
Worthy from beauty, oh! but worthier far Laugh, and 'wake the sleeping Powers---
From sweet associate pleasurez---Ting to me Sounc on water-lilies lie
Artlike the glass of memory, vh:'re the mind Aud down the wave float silently...
Sees, charmed and softened by iny nurinor- Some, in circles tlying,
ing, things

rhed Bat with their tiny wings the air,
It elsewliere dare not dream of-.-things that And rouse the zepliyr when he's dying:
With early youth, and went--one knew pot Some tumble in the fog tain's spray,
Winther--

Aad in the lunar rainbows play :
Shadows forgot--and hope that peri-bed ... All seems as they were free from care...
Beaut ful river! on thy banks remore, Yet--- One there was, who at times would
Sull does the lialf-suoned primrose waste its

stray, wrets;

As on her breast some sorrow weighed,
And that pale flower that seeks the valley And rest her in the pine-treesliede;
( write

(The blue-eyed queen Titania ;)
Like purity) comes forth ; bly violeis, Sle, from very grief of beant,
T! will-brier-ros., 101 spoilednisirs wich Would from the revels of depart;
Tir young year:catters on the swarr.ant all And, like a shontiug sun-hpalli, go
T121 Joe or April love, or Allumpires To where the Tigris' w:tii: chine-
Anidst her golden bounty, live unourt Or the Casbmere roses blow-

bid,

Or where the fir-clad Appenine

And in my course of life, dark shoals were Frowns darkly op Italian skies --Or where, 'neath Summer's smile divine, And rocks arose, and thundering currents Tydore's spicy forests rise

clashed; But hark! my master Ocean calls.

(Like when the mighty rivers of the West And I most hie to his coral halls.

Meet the tempestuous seas;) but still I lived,

And held my way undaunted--- Now, I come What think you now !--- Believe the Spirit,

leve the spirit, To this sweet place for quiet.--- Every tree, and own The place is haunted.---On yon slanting tree

And bush, and fragrant flower,and billy path,

e And thymy mound that flings onto the winds That dips its tresses in the wave, 'tis said Poets have leant, and when the Moon bath D

. Its morning incense, is---my friend; for I

Did make acquaintance with inanimate tlang

things Her bright smile on the quivering element,

In very boyhood, and did love to break Have thought a strange cominunion lived, with shouts the mountain silence, and to hang

O'er flashing torrents, when the piny bong has That Planet and the stream---Perchance a She

chance a Shook their dark locks, and plained in nymph

mournful tones Of Dian's train, here, for her voice or beauty, Mysterious to the barren wilderness : Was changed by some envious deity--

And still, in solitary spots, my soul Whate'er it be, it well doth manifest

Resumes its youth---Think not that this is all The lives of those who dwell around it :--

-- An idle folly; He who can draw a joy Calm

From rocks, or woods, or weed, or things And undi-turbed its current--never chafed

that seem By the rude breeze, it tlows on till---'tis lost. A

st. All mute (and does 't).--is wise. [W.] But I have sailed upon a stormier wave,

between

INTELLIGENCE.

From the London Monthly Magazines, December, 1818. M R . Roscoe has in the press, a work on B. West, esq. P.R.A., hy R. SATCAWELL; AV PenalJurisprudence and the Reforma- and accompanied by biographical and bistion of Criminals; which includes an inanirytorical sketches. into the motives, ends, and limits, of human Miss SPENCE, author of Sketches of the punishments; and also as to the effect of Manners, Customs, and Scenery, of Scotland, punishment by way of example ; and on the &c. &c. is preparing for publication a new prevention of crimes. The work will also work, entitled, a Traveller's Tale of the last contain the latest accounts respecting the Century. state prisoners and penitentiaries in the Elements of Chemistry: by James Millar. United States. From so philosophical a M.D. Editor of the Encyclopedia Edinen-is pen, a treatise on these subjects cannot fail, One vol. 8vo. This work will contain.--. at this time, to be peculiarly valuable. Principles of Chemistry----9. Phenomena

Mr. GEORGE CHALMERS announces the of Nature---3. Arts and Manufactures. Life of Mary Queen of Scots, drawn from

NEW WORKS PUBLISHED. the state papers, with six subsidiary memoirs : A Sequel to Mrs. Trimmer's Introdurtion On the calumnies concerning the Scottish to the Knowledge of Nature. By Sarah queen ; memoirs of Francis II. ; on Lord Trimmer, 12mo." Darpley ; on James Earl Bothwell; on the Observations introductory to a Work on Earl of Murray ; on Secretary Maitland. English Etymology. By John Thomson. The whole to be illustrated with ten plates of Margaret Melville, and the Soldier's medals, portraits, and views, and printed in Daughter. By Catherine Alicia Mant, Antwo volumes, quarto.

thor of Ellen, &c. A high quarrel with the Pope is announced, Florence Macarthy: an Irish Tale. By in a copy of a correspondence between the Lady Morgan, author of France, O'Donnell, Court of Rome and Baron von Wessenberg, &c. 4 vols. bishop of Constance; in which the bishop My Old Cousin; or, A Peep into Cochin disputes the authority of the Pope in Ger China; a novel. By the author of Romantic many, and endeavours, with every proba- Facts. 3 vols. bility of success, to effect a general reforma Nightmare Abbey. By the author of tion in the German Catholic Church. Headlong Hall, 12 mo.

The Ilistory of the late War in Spain and Brambleton Hall, 12mo, Portugal is preparing by ROBERT SOUTIEY, Warwick Castle: a Tale, with minor esq. in no less than three quarto volumes. Poems. By W. R. Bedford, B.A. of Uni

A serond edition is printing of the School yersity College, Oxford. Felless; by the author of the Twin Sisters. The Immortality of the Soul, and other

Apfissional work will speedily be pub- Poems. By Thoma- Thoinson, lished,entitied, the Fountain of Life Opened, History of Voyagesinto the Polar Regions, or a Display of Christ in his E«sential and undertaken chiefly for the purpose of discoMediatorial Glory; by the late JOHN vering a North East, North West, or Polar FLAVEL.

passage between the Atlantic and Pacifie, A fine and curious work of Scripture Cose By John Barrow, esq. Hvo. turne, in imperial quarto, is preparing. It Fearson's Narrative of a Journey of 5,1130 will consist of a series of engravinga, accu- miles through the Eastern and Western rately coloured, in imitation of drawings, States of America. 8vo. respecting the principal personages mention Narrative of the Expedition which sailed ed in the Old and New Testament. The from England in 1807, to join the South drawings are under the superintendance of American Patriots. By James Hackett.

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A NIGHT IN THE CATACOMBS.

From Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Oet. 1818.
Mr. Editor,

deepest gratitude to the providence If you consider the following pages as possessed of which turned to so much benefit in my interest, I should be happy to see them inserted in your Miscellany. The story may not be so thrilling own case, that which, considering the as some of those you have already given to the pub- peculiar state and temper of my mind, lic, but I can answer for its truth ; and I dare say might have caused insanity or death, if old Jerome, who used to shew the catacombs in and wishing it to become, if possible, Paris, be yet alive, he will recollect the handsome Englishman, with brown hair, and dark blue eyes as used

as useful to others. Superstition is not full of meaning, whom he released one morning indeed an epidemic of the present age ; from a night's imprisonment in those gloomy vaults. yet there may be individuals, who cast I shall only add, in behalfof my friend, whose let- their eyes upon my tale, that will thank ter I transcribe, that he is a person of the most unsullied honour and veracity; and that the fine

me for its lesson. powers of his mind, however warped and weaken. I never knew the fostering care of a ened by superstitious fears in his youth, have since father; and my mother, except in the completely recovered their proper tone and elasti- boundless affection wbich I remember eity.

Your's, &e. September, 1818,

D. K, S.

in my solitary years,did not well supply

his place. Inberiting a large domaia MY DEAR S

in the wildest district of Wales, I was OTVERE is nothing more baneful early taught to attach notions of digni

1 than the influence which privileged ty and importance to myself, and enternurses and other attendants upon young tained a long train of more interesting children exercise over their untutored thoughts than usually occupy the breast imaginations, through the medium of of boyhood. From the indulgence of superstitious dread. You know that my guardians to an only son, I was there are few who have suffered more never sent to school, and thus had no from such cruelty than myself; that opportunity of acquiring the prompt for the prime years of my youth I was and active spirit that is generated in a the victim of a distempered fancy, which public seminary, or that hard yet brilLin vain attempted to chasten or cor- liant polish of the world, that repels rect; and that it was only by a most from its surface all assaults of sanguine siugular and unexpected accident that and romantic feeling. My domestic I was freed from the reign of terror. tutor enriched my mind with an extenBut I believe you bare never been sive knowledge of the classics, and immade acquainted with the full detail of bued it with the deepest admiration of shat accident; and I therefore send you their beantes ; but he did not apply this account of it, impressed with the himself :o correct the wild tissue of ab

2Y ATHEN PPM. Vol. 4.

surd and superstitious notions, which an tomb, are too sacred to my rememacute observer must have detected in brance to be even now unravelled. I my bosom, or the greedy taste for fic- shortly after came of age, and one of tion, and nervous sensibility, of which the first acts of my majority was a visit I myself perceived and lamented the to Paris, during the short interval of excess. Ever since I could walk, I war afforded by the peace of Amiens, had been under the superintendence of in hopes of alleviating my anguish. an old nurse attached to the family, Here indeed I saw something of life ; whose memory, like that of most of but I was too reserved to enter into inher countrywomen, was well stored with timacy with any of those to whose aclegend and tradition, and who had se- quaintance my guardians introduced cretly acquired an absolute authority me. Proud, shy, and sensitive, I was over me. While I was a mere child, fearful of their penetrating into the she used to frighten me into obedience, weaknesses of my character, which I if refractory, by threats of supernatural felt Were far from harmonizing with the interference, and sometimes by devices general opinions of mankind; and I of so horrible and extraordinary a na- fancy they perceived something unfashture, that I can hardly now recollect ionably cold and sombre about me, them without a shudder. The earnest- which mutually prevented our knowness and emphasis, moreover, with ledge of each other. To the value of which she told me tales which she more even your friendship, my dear S- , than half believed, gave her gradually I was then insensible-but you cannot an entire dominion over my fears and say I have remained so. fancy, which she could rouse and regu- In one of my lonely rambles about late at will. Even after I bad emerged the wonderful and interesting capital from the nursery, it used to be my de- I was now visiting, I joined a crowd of light to steal to her apartment in the twenty or thirty persons, waiting at the evening, and sit listening for hours to outer door that leads to the upper enher ghostly narratives, till my knees trance of the Catacombs. I had beard shook, and every nerve in my body of these extraordinary vaults, but not trembled, in the agitation and over-ex- having passed before the Barriere d'Eacitement she produced. It was then fer, I had not inspected them in person. almost too much for my courage to Though I could not help conjecturing hurry through the long passage, lighted that a subterraneous cemetery,5 where by a single central lamp, to the library the relics of ten centuries reposed, must in our gothic mansion; and there, when be a sight too congenial with the mor. I entered hreathless and with a beating bid temper of my mind, I had no coheart, I used to find my mother alone, tion of the actual horrors of that manweeping over the correspondence of my sion for the dead, or in iny then distempoor father in silence, and yielding to pered state of feeling, I should not have the sorrow that finally bowed her to trusted my nerves with the spectacle to the grave. My sole amusement every be expected. How will the curious pight, while thus sitting in the room tourist of the present day smile as be with her (for we saw no company at peruses this confession, if you give my all), was in poring with a perpetually- story to the public !--but a few, perincreasing interest, over all that could haps will understand and pity what most tend to nourish the deleterious were my follies. As it was, I provided passion of my soul. My inother was myself, like the rest, with a waxen tatoo much absorbed in her own recollec- per, and we waited with impatience tions to pay much attention to my em- for the appearance of the guide from ployments or my studies; and her own below, with the party that had preceded mind was too much weakened by aMic- us. It was about three o'clock of a tion to have suggested any salutary re- sultry afternoon, and we were detained storatives for mine.

so long, that when the door opened at The agonies I felt at my beloved last, we all rushed in, and hurried old parent's death, and for many a wakeful Jerome to the task of conducting 1, night after she was committed to the without giving him tima for the necessa

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