The Bee. 'Floriferis ut apes in saltibus omnia limant, Omnia nos itidem depascimur aurea dicta.' LUCRETIUS. Village Sign Board.-The following is literally copied from a board upon the window of a Huxter in a village, upon the St. Albans road : starting up in a passion cried, Ise hear day, the day on which this fatal mis- In the time of Queen Elizabeth, ten pounds would purchase as complete a law library as can now be had for fifteen hundred pounds! nine, or ten times a-day (according to his constitution) a large glass of hot Bourdeaux wine (if that is not to be procured, the red wine nearest in quality), mixed with an equal quantity of Shakespeare's tragedy of Hamlet. lemon juice, in order to excite and This play is founded on the story of keep up a profuse perspiration; and Amleth, in the Danish history of Saxo continue this regimen till his conva-Germanicus. It is to be found in Mrs. lescence. Lenox's Shakespeare illustrated. The Fish.-The smelt; the name of story has a very romantic air, abounds this fish is derived from its peculiar with improbabilities, and is such alto- scent, i. e. smell it. There is no fish gether as would scarce have struck any dies so soon as the herring when taken imagination but Shakespeare's. Am-out of the water, whence arises the proleth, we are told, put on the guise of verb, as dead as a herring.' Herringfolly, rolled on the ground, covered silver is money formerly paid in lieu of his face with filth, raked the embers a certain quantity of herrings for a rewith his hands &c. How finely has ligious house. our immortal bard availed himself of this hint! and what a dignified mind Isaac Beeby, shoe maker, Higler has he presented to us in his hero! and dealer in hold cloase sells hall sorts The Ghost is entirely the invention of of grocery and wooden ware Bakun, the author, and how nobly has he masand &c. Goes to Lunnun and Sant naged it. Every sentiment respecting Talbands twice a week, brings hoys-this imaginary personage is fully in ters and hall sorts of fish by land car- character with the feelings of the hero. riage. In the original story the catastrophe is full of terrors. Amleth, having made the nobility drunk, sets fire to the palace, and during the coufusion goes to the usurper's apartment, and tells him Amleth was then to revenge his father's murder; upon which the King, jumping out of bed,is instantly put to death, and Amleth, proclaimed King. *Hold hats made as good as new, as well as every bother heart-tickle in the cloas trade. "Farmers Servants and Wenches hope to places at any other time but fare time upon happlication here.-They may enquire for Karacters whey they like it.' King James 1st.-Soon after that Solomon of his age came to the throne of England, he took it in his head one day to go and hear causes in Westminster hall to shew his learning and wisdom, of which he had no mean opinion. Accordingly, being seated on that bench a cause come on, which the counsel learned in the law, set forth to such advantage on the part of the plaintiff, that the sagacity of the Royal Judge soon saw the justice of it so clearly that he frequently cried out I'se ken the matter unco weel! The gude man is i' the reight! the gude man is i' the reight! He mun ha it! he mun ha it!' And when the counsel had concluded, took it as a high affront, that the judges of the court should presume to remonstrate to him, that it was the rule audire alteram partem, before they gave judgment. Curiosity to know what could be said in so clear a case, rather than any respect to their rules, made him defer his decision; but the defendant's counsel had scarcely begun to open their cause, when his sacred Majesty appeared greatly discomposed, and was so puzzled as they proceeded, that he had no patience to hear them out, but Had Shakespeare adhered to this circumstanstance, he would, perhaps, have given the finest scenes of terror in the last act that ever have been imagined; and then a subject that opens so nobly would have been grand also in its close.-London Chronicle. 1757. Conciseness.-Mr. Pinkney, of Maryland, in his answer to the citizens of Baltimore, declining to deliver the 4th of July oration, on account of professional engagements, proceeds to declare his devotion to the people, without the slightest circumlocution, as follows: '1 am authorised, as I persuade myself to feel assured, that it will never be believed by any body, that I can be indifferent to the wishes of the people.'` The Scottish Proverb-'It is well said; but who will bell the cat?' was occasioned by the following circumstance. The nobility of Scotland entered into a combination against one Spence, the favourite of King James III. It was proposed to go in a body to Sterling, seize Spence, and hang him; then to offer their service to the King, as his natural counsellors; upou which the Lord Grey observed, It is well said, but who will bell the cat?” alluding to the fable of the mice, who proposed to put a bell about the cat's Broad boards made out of vines.- neck, that they might be apprized of The great door of the cathedral at Ra- her coming. The Earl of Angus revenna is made of rough boards without plyed, that he would bell the cat, any ornaments; but the most remark-which he accordingly executed, and able thing is, that these boards are was ever afterwards called Archibald sawed out of vines, and some of them Bell Cat.' are 12ft. in length and two spars in breadth. Pliny asserts that the temples of the ancients were often built of this wood the image of Jupiter in the city of Populonia cut out of a single vine, we see undecayed for so many ages, as likewise the dish at Marseilles. The pillars of the temple of Juno at Metapantum were of vine tree, and even the steps to the temple of Diana, at Ephesus, are said to be made of the Cyprian vine; but I take them to be made of the wild vine.' TO READERS & CORRESPONDENTS. Guiseppino, reviewed and praised by our Devil's', is not by the noble poet, but we cancontemporary as either 'Lord Byron's or the not speak so decisively as to the authorship of the other illustrious personage. We must apologize to our Correspondents this week for not noticing their communications, to all of which we will pay due attention in our next. London: Published by J. Limbird, 355, Strand, two doors East of Exeter Change; where advertise ments are received, and communications for the Editor (post paid) are to be addressed. Sold also by Souter, 73, St. Paul's Church Yard; Simpki and Marshall, Stationer's Court; Chapple, Pall Mall; Grapel, Liverpool and by all Booksellers and Newsvenders-Printed by Davidson, Old Bax George Abbott, archbishop of Can- And Weekly Review; Forming an Analysis and General Repository of Literature, Philosophy, Science, Arts, History, the Drama, Morals, Manners, and Amusements. This Paper is published early every Saturday Morning; and is forwarded Weekly, or in Monthly or Quarterly Parts, throughout the British Dominions. No. 133. LONDON, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1821. Review of New Books. Price 6d. rant and malignant critics, by recom- and fragile than it was beautiful, and posing his poem; and, during the hur-where canker worms abound, what wonder ry, the anguish, and the irritation at- if its young flower was blighted in the bud? The savage criticism on his ́EnAdonais, an Elegy on the Death of John tending these efforts, the vigour of a dymion,' which appeared in the Quarterly Keats, Author of Endymion, Hype-great mind was entirely exhausted, Review, produced the most violent effects rion, &c. By Percy B. Shelley. and, in two years after the publication on his susceptible mind; the agitation 4to. pp. 25. Pisa, 1821. of his work, the unhappy bard became thus originated ended in the rupture of a blood vessel in the lungs, a rapid conTHROUGH the kindness of a friend, we an object of pity and of terror. have been favoured with the latest prosumption ensued, and the succeeding acduction of a gentleman of no ordinary knowledgments from more candid critics, genius, Mr. Bysshe Shelley. It is an of the true greatness of his powers, were elegy on the death of a youthful poet ineffectual to heal the wound thus wanof considerable promise, Mr. Keats, tonly inflicted. and was printed at Pisa. As the copy now before us is, perhaps, the only one that has reached England, and the subject is one that will excite much interest, we shall print the whole of it. It has been often said, and Mr. Shelley repeats the assertion, that Mr. Even the mild Newton, with all his philosophy, was so sensible to critical remarks, that Whiston tells us he lost his favour, which he had enjoyed for twenty years, for contradicting Newton in his old age; for, says he, no man was of a more fearful temper.' Whiston declares that he would never have thought proper to have published his work against Newton's Chronology during the life of the great philosopher, because,' says he, I knew his 6 It may be well said, that these wretched men know not what they do. They scatter their insults and their slanders without heed as to whether the poisoned shafts light on a heart made callous by many blows, or one, like Keats's, composed of more penetrable stuff. One of their associates is, to my knowledge, a most base and unprincipled calumniator. As to Endymion, was it a poem, whatever might be its defects, to be treated conWe have never been among the very temptuously by those who had celebrated enthusiastic admirers of Mr. Keats's with various degrees of complacency and a "Syrian Tale," and Mrs. Lefanu, and poetry, though we allow that he pos- panegyric," Paris," and "Woman," and sessed considerable genius; but we are decidedly averse to that species of lite- Mr. Barrett, and Mr. Howard Payne, and rary condemnation, which is often praca long list of the illustrious obscure? and to a mind of such exquisite sen- tised by men of wit and arrogance, Are these the men who, in their venal Keats fell a victim to his too great sus- sibility, we do not wonder that he felt temper so well, that I should have ex- without feeling and without discrimi nation. good-nature, presumed to draw a parallel between the Rev. Mr. Milman and Lord, Byron? What gnat did they strain at Mr. Shelley is an ardent admirer of here, after having swallowed all those caKeats; and though he declares his re-mels? Against what woman, taken in fects of criticism on some minds.Hawkesworth died of criticism; when pugnance to the principles of taste on adultery, dares the foremost of these fitewhich several of his earlier composi- rary prostitutes to cast his opprobrious Miserable man! you, one of the he published his account of the voy-tions were modelled, he says that he stone? ages in the South Seas, for which he considers the fragment of Hyperion meanest, have wantouly defaced one of the noblest specimens of the workmanship received £6000, an innumerable host as second to nothing that was ever pro- of God. Nor shall it be your excuse, of enemies attacked it in the newspa-duced by a writer of the same years.' that, murderer as you are, you have pers and magazines; some pointed out Mr. Shelley, in the preface, gives some spoken daggers but used none. blunders in matters of science, and details respecting the poet :some exercised their wit in poetical translations and epigrams. It was, says Dr. Kippis, 'a fatal undertaking, and which, in its consequences, deprived him of presence of mind and of *life itself.' Tasso was driven mad by criticism; his susceptibility and tenderness of feeling were so great, that when his sublime work, Jerusalem Delivered,' met with unexpected opposition, the fortitude of the poet was not proof against the keenness of disappointment, He twice attempted to please his igno 3 B-51 'John Keats died at Rome, of a con sumption, in his twenty-fourth year, on The genius of the lamented person to The circumstance of the closing scene of poor Keats's life were not made known to me until the elegy was ready for the press. I am given to understand that the wound which his sensitive spirit had received from the criticism of Endymion, was exasperated by the bitter sense of unrequited benefits; the poor fellow seems to have been hastened from the stage of life, no less by those on whom he bad wasted the promise of his genius,* than * We do not know to whom Mr. Shelley alludes; but we believe we may say that the city of London does not boast a bookseller beral to rising genius or indigent merit than the publishers of Mr. Keats's poems-ED, more honourable in his dealings, or more li And happier they their happiness who knew, time But now thy youngest, dearest one has perished, those on whom he had lavished his for- Of the beauty of Mr. Shelley's elegy we shall not speak; to every poetic imind, its transcendant merits must be apparent. I 'ADONAIS. weep for Adonais he is dead! O, weep for Adonais ! though our tears me Died Adonais; till the future dares And fed with true love tears, instead of dew; Invisible corruption waits to trace Forget the past, his fate and fame shall be flies In darkness? where was born Urania When Adonais died? With veiled eyes, 'Mid listening echoes, in her paradise She sate, while one, with soft enamoured breath, Re-kindled all the fading melodies, With which, like flowers that mock the corse beneath, He had adorned and hid the coming bulk of death. O, weep for Adonais-he is dead! Wake, melancholly mother, wake and weep! Yet wherefore? Quench within their burning będ Thy fiery tears, and let thy loud heart keep Most musical of mourners, weep again; The passion-winged ministers of thought, streams Of his young spirit he fed, and whom he Round the cold heart, where, after their secret pain, They ne'er will gather strength, or find a home And one with trembling hands clasps his cold And fans him with her moonlight wings, and Sce, on the silken fringe of his faint eyes, Lost angel of a ruined paradise! She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain rain. That mouth, whence it was wont to draw the breath Which gave it strength to pierce the guarded wit, One from a lucid urn of starry dew The priest, the slave, and the liberticide, Most musical of mourners, weep anew! And pass into the panting heart beneath Quenched its caress upon his icy lips; of moonlight vapour, which the cold night clips, Which frozen tears instead of pearls begem; Another splendour on his mouth alit, And others came-Desires and Adorations, Of hopes and fears, and twilight Phantasies ; seem Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal stream. Lamented Adonais. Morning sought Her eastern watch tower, and her hair unbound, Dimmed the aerial eyes that kindle day; Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains, Or herdsman's horn, or bell at closing day; Grief made the young Spring wild, and she Her kindling buds, as if she Autumn were, To Phoebus was not Hyacinth so dear Thy spirit's sister, the lone nightingale, Soaring and screaming round her empty nest, And build their mossy homes in field and brere; In the death chamber for a moment, Death Leave me not wild and drear and comfortless, Stay yet awhile! speak to me once again; With food of saddest memory kept alive, "O gentle child, beautiful as thou wert, heart Dare the unpastured dragon in his den? The herded wolves, bold only to pursue; When, like Apollo, from his golden bow, They fawn on the proud feet that 'spurn them The sun comes forth, and many reptiles spawn; It sinks, the swarms that dimmed or shared its Leave to its kindred lamps the spirit's awful night.' Actæon-like, and now he fled astray A pardlike spirit, beautiful and swift,- lift The weight of the superincumbent hour; A breaking billow;-even whilst we speak His head was bound it pansies overblown, All stood aloof, and at his partial moan Who in another's fate now wept his own; He answered not, but with a sudden hand What softer voice is hushed over the dead? Let me not rex, with inharmonious sighs, Live thou, whose infamy is not thy fame! came, Their garments sere, their magic mantles rent; "Midst others of less note, came one frail form, Thou noteless blot on a remembered name! as now. Nor let us weep that our delight is fled of shame. Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep- Like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief He has outsoared the shadow of our night; air Which like a mourning veil thy scarf hadst thrown O'er the abandoned earth, now leave it bare He is made one with nature: there is heard In darkness and in light, from herb and stone, Arose; and Luçan, by his death approved: Oblivion, as they rose, shrank like a thing reproved. And many more, whose names on earth are dark, Thou art become as one of us,' they cry, "It was for thee yon kingless sphere has long Swung blind in unascended majesty, Silent alone amid an Heaven of song: Assume thy winged throne, thou Vesper of our throng! Who mourns for Adonais? oh come forth Fond wretch! and know thyself and him aright. Clasp with thy panting soul the pendulous earth; As from a centre, dart thy spirit's light to the brink. cay, And of the past are all that cannot pass away. And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress And gray walls moulder round, on which dull time Feeds, like slow fire upon a hoary brand; A field is spread, on which a newer band Have pitched in Heaven's smile their camp of death, Welcoming him we lose with scarce, extinguished breath. Here pause: these graves are all too young as yet To have out-grown the sorrow which consigned Its charge to each; and if the seal is set Here, on one fountain of a mourning mind, Break it not thou! too surely shalt thou find Thine own well full, if thou returnest home, facts related by the most distinguished travellers, stripped of useless detail and personal feeling, it possesses a coliserve amidst such a variety of objects. secutiveness which it is difficult to preWith declaring our decided approval of the plan and execution of this work, we proceed to our extracts: The Boa Constrictor.-'The boa conriver of Sierra Leone is sometimes thirty strictor of the countries watered by the feet in length, or, as the Negroes say, forty, and four feet in circumference: they also say that he swallows an ox or a account of this prodigious serpent. 'Tis Adonais calls! oh, hasten thither, No more let Life divide what Death can join to- buffalo intire. They give the following gether. That light whose smile kindles the universe, That beauty in which all things work and move, Of birth can quench not, that sustaining love That benediction which the eclipsing curse Which through the web of being blindly wove By man and beast and earth and air and sea, Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me, Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality. The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven, He hides himself near some spring or pool of water, where he remains perfectly still, convolved in three spiral rows. While an animal is quenching its thirst, its body, compresses it with great force, he springs upon it, twines himself round and suffocates it. When he is convinced that it is dead, he untwists himself, and quits it. He then attacks it with his teeth, which he drives deeply into every part of its body. After this, he again winds himself round his prey, and by rapid motions, powerful contractions, and repeated efforts, he crushes every bone to pleted, he moistens the body all over powder. When this operation is comwith a kind of thick saliva, which he disgorges in great abundance, and stretches it out at full length by creeping along it on both sides. All things being now ready for swallowing his victim, he places himself opposite to it. He opens his The Tour of Africa: containing a con-mouth, approaches it in an erect po-ture, cise Account of all the Countries in that Quarter of the Globe hitherto visited by Europeans; with the Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants, selected from the best Authors, and arranged By Catherine Hutton. Vol. III. 8vo. pp. 536. London, The soul of Adonais, like a star, 1821. snaps in the head or muzzle of his prey, and swallows the whole, by degrees, without letting it go. But before this monstrous reptile dèvours any large animal, he carefully inspects all the surrounding places, to be assured that no enemy is near; for, after such a repast, he is so horribly full, that he is incapable of the least motion or resistance. nue to present themselves to public at-regale themselves at once with his flesh Du ing this state of absolute WHILE new voyages and travels contihelplessness, the Negroes kill him, and tention, in such massive and expensive and that of the prey he has swallowed. tomes as to be beyond the purchase of In this state of lethargy he is also attacked ordinary readers, we are glad to see a by the ants, which penetrate into his body person of Miss Hutton's talents en- by millions, through his ears, nose, and gaged in condensing the labours of mouth, devour in less than twenty-four volumes the spirit and interest of a others, and presenting in three octavo hours both the serpent and his prey, and leave nothing but the empty skin.' whole library. In a work which does not present claims to originality, great Of tears and gall. From the world's bitter wind industry, good taste, and sound dis Seek shelter in the shadow of the tomb.- Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, seek! crimination, are the essential qualifications; and these the fair author of the Tour of Africa certainly possesses. The first two volumes of this work, which have been some time before the public, are replete with interest; and the one now before us, which completes the whole, is of equal merit. While it contains all the most interesting by the natives the Bijugas, and so they The Bijugas.-The Bissagos are called call themselves. They are the most uncivilized of all the Negroes, and are distinguished by the others by the appellation of wild men. They are muscular, bony, well proportioned, and active.Their noses are more elevated, and their lips not so thick as those of their neighinto every fanciful form that can be imabours. Their hair is woolly, and shaved gined; the part that remains is generally dressed with red ochre and palm oil. |