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Will Penitence be heard: the Judge above Takes the poor sufferer to his boundless love.

Besides the fifteen sonnets devoted to the story of EMILY, there is another set upon a subject on which we have often thought with a degree of national pride in our own country; and we confess, with a feeling of surprise, if not of indignation, at the boast which is so often made of the freedom and equality of the citizens of another country, which it has become the fashion of late to hold up as the theme of eulogium on it, and of censure on other nations. The subject of these sonnets is that of "Negro Slavery in the United States of America." The tone and sentiment of these will be seen by quoting the first of the series, addressed,

TO THE GUARDIAN GENIUS or

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to wear

The chains they brought ?-No spoilers, of

the free, Unknowing on the battle's grassy mound They tread, and wonder at the heaps around.

There is one poem in the common hexameter verse, to which we own a partiality, arising, perhaps, from early association. It is entitled "THE REPOSE OF VIRTUE, on receiving the Portrait of an old and very dear Friend, painted by her Niece."-Aƒter describing, in very excellent verse, the active benevolence of the old lady, and the repose and satisfaction it has bestowed on her last days, it closes with the following simile, which, though not new in the general idea, and rather extended beyond the legitimate length of simile, has seldom been more justly applied or more beautifully expressed.

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Woo'd it to rest, with softest airs and Still journeying, far it bore the freshening flowers, swell

To many a thirsty plain, and many a dell. Now, the same influence, centering into peace,

That led its onward wanderings, bids them

With

cease:

conscious smile its course of blessing past,

Calm but unwearied rests the stream at last,

Reflecting in its bosom's cloudless shade That Heaven, whose bounty, it so long convey'd.

On the sonnet stanza, in which the greater part of this collection of poems offer any remark, as the subject has is written, it is unnecessary for us to been treated by eminent critics much more in detail than we can afford room for in this place. One very just remark on the difficulty of that stanza (to which our language is not nearly so favourable as the Italian, from the author, in his preface to this little which it was borrowed) is made by

voluine.

"In every measure, (says he,) there are two circumstances to be considered,-the rhythmical melody, as a pleasing succession of sounds, and the ease with which that pecuHar order of sounds may be made to acthe accordance in this respect is perfect, the cord with the sentiment of the verse. When measure itself is scarcely perceived, or is felt only in the sweetness of its melody: and it is most complete, when not a word seems to be introduced for the purpose of filling up the rhythmical period, but every

"

phrase is such as might be supposed to flow spontaneously from the mind, in the particular circumstances represented. A measure may thus be very complicated in itself, and yet, by the happy art of the poet, when the labour of the art is never forced upon the reader's mind by an incongruous phrase, may produce the same effect as a much simpler measure; and the simplest mensure may appear artificial and strained, if a single violent inversion, or stiff and awkward word, bring before us immediately the constraint of the writer, by reminding us of the rhythm or the rhyme, which forced the reluctant syllables to make their appearance, where, but for that dire necessity, they never would have come of them

selves. The natural order of thought, and the natural expression of that thought, are the very nature which the poetic artist is required to have constantly in view. In some measures, he may find an exact conformity with it less easy than in others: but, if he make the attempt, he may be considered as virtually binding himself to overcome the difficulties with which he has voluntarily undertaken to struggle, and must not suffer an unappropriate phrase to remain, merely because a measure, which no one compelled him to use, does not admit of so wide a selection as other mea,

sures which were equally within his

choice."

But this difficulty, though the talents or fertility of the poet may in some cases overcome it, is a strong reason against adopting this measure, except there is some quality belonging to it which is worth the cost of surmounting that difficulty. There is, we think, in the Spenserian stanza a certain tenderness, an approach to elegy without its sadness, which suits some situations in which poetry delights to place the persons of its drama, and in this way it has been suecessfully used by several later poets. We think it will hardly bear the use to which others have applied it, such as the narrative, especially when that narrative obliges them to carry on the poetical sentence from one stanza to another, which, to our ear, sounds awkward and unnatural, as the Alexandrine at the close seems to have rounded the sense, and, in some degree, shut out the continuation of the subject. It is, perhaps, from its restriction to a fixed number of lines that it sometimes leads towards a degree of epigrammatic quaintness not well suited to the nature of the subjects for which it is generally employed. Our author is not free from this

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Dr Brown has tried another measure not practised by any other poet with whom we are acquainted, and of which, we think, his example will not by making the verse consist of nine encourage the use in future, that is, instead of ten syllables. Of this he has given two examples in " A MORNING PICTURE" and " AN EVENING. PICTURE;" with what success our readers will judge from the following quotation from the first of those poems :—

Smiles she ev'n in sleep, or does her

arm,

Couching soft below, sweet dimples

trace;

As if, form'd for ceaseless joy, a grace Liv'd still wakeful in each slumbering charm?

We submit to their judgment whether this nine-syllable verse is either agreeable to the ear, or gives energy to the thought.

We think the author's blank verse one of the happiest of his measures; so we thought in his former poem of Agnes, which, in our humble opinion, it is somewhat a perversion of taste in the present time not to have appre tiated more highly. It contains a domestic story of great tenderness, with many passages of pathos not more feelingly conceived than happily expressed. We wish that, notwithstanding the discouragement of a little want of that popularity which has been bestowed on very inferior productions, Dr Brown would give us another tale in the same strain with Agnes, which is of a kind that every one can understand, and of that gentle melancholy which affects but does not tear the feelings, which improves the heart without stirring it to hostility against mankind. Let him touch his lute in such a manner as to produce its tender tones, and forbear to force it to that amoroso or allegro measure, to which its power seems not so well adapted.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

JANUARY.

THE scene is desolate and bleak;
The clouds, presaging tempest, streak
The waning fields of air;
The vales in sombre darkness lie,
And January breezes sigh

Thro' leafless forests bare!
The rank grass rustles by the stone
With purple lichens overgrown.
The drooping cattle cower below,
While, on the beech's topmost bough,
The croaking raven sits;→→→
The tumult of the torrent's roar,
That, rain-swol'n, rushes to the shore,
Is heard, and lost by fits;
Now with a voice o'erpowering all,
Now sinking in a dying fall.
How vanishes our time away!
"Tis like the circuit of a day,

Since last, with devious feet,
This lonely rural path I trode;
The blooming wild-flowers gem'd the sod,
The summer breeze was sweet;
The hues of earth, the tints of sky,
Were rapture to the heart and eye.

I listened to the linnet's song,
I heard the lyric lark prolong

Her heart-exulting note,
When, far removed from mortal sight,
She, soaring to the source of light,

Etherial regions sought,

And, from the summit of her flight
Looked down, and sung with fond delight..
The wild-rose, arched in artless bower,
The heather, and the hawthorn flower,

United their perfume,
Beneath as bright and blue a sky,
As e'er transported human eye,
Since Eden was in bloom;
And innocence from Paradise
Affrighted fled, and sought the skies.
And now, I listen to the breeze,
That whistles through the leafless trees,
And to the pattering rain;
The waters roar with foamy surge,
The curlew sends her wailing dirge,
Across the marshy plain.-
Well may such altered scene impart
A moral to the thinking heart!
In youth, ah! little do we think
How near the raging torrent's brink
The flowers of Pleasure grow;
How fickle is the gale; how far
From mild Contentment's gentle star,
Our bark may sail below;

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What chance and change our lot may
brave,
Between the cradle and the grave.

Yet this is in the power of all-
However Fortune rise or fall-
To scorn ignoble art;
And, in the open eye of day,
To tread the independent way,
In singleness of heart;
Unsullied as the silver moon,
Amid the deep blue skies of June.
So, when the night of age appears,
And time is short, and all our years.
Have come, and passed away;
We, quietly consigned to deep,
But not to everlasting sleep,
Shall, where our fathers lay,
Be laid,- -our memory virtue's theme,
Our epitaph the world's esteem.

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OH! once again, dear vision of the soul! Return, and soothe me with thy placid smile,

And win me with thy mild dark eye, and
soft

Yet all-prevailing gentleness of mien,
From the cold workings of a world of strife!
Meet me, my Julia! in this lonely spot,
That erst was witness to our communings,
In those blest days, when hope had not
gone by:

And let me gaze upon thy placid brow,
Whose calm no feverish thought, or guilty
wish,

Hath e'er disturbed; and let me lay this
head,

Torn by a thousand withering phantasies,
Upon that gentle breast, where all is pure
And peaceful and serene, and softly place
Thy snowy hand upon this burning brow,
And calm its feverish workings into rest!

And whither, tell me whither can I fly
For refuge, from the demons of distrust,
And cold misanthropy, that cling and coil
With poisoned fangs around my withering
heart?

Whither unless to Nature and to Thee, The daughter of my early thought, the bright

And pure creation of my soul, while yet My soul was pure, the lovely form in whom

The flitting thoughts, and fancies mani-
fold,

And feelings undefined, by nature stamped
On my young heart, were gathered into

life?

And though I dare not, with unhallowed tongue,

Approach to supplicate, from Her, whose

sway

Was lost amid the feverish strife, that tore My heart, and spread its baleful influence wide

O'er all my soul, that calm and deep repose,

Which now my spirit seems to seek in vain;

Yet thou wilt plead for me, and gently, yet

Not unreproachful, soothe my bosom's pain;

And we will seat us on the grassy sod,
Beside the streamlet's edge, where first
Thy form arose like sunshine on my soul;
Where I have lain within the waving shade
Of that o'erhanging elm, whose branching

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With insidious wiles could tear away
The cup of joy, ere yet it reached my lip;
Or, haply touching on a nobler theme,
Would sing how young Rinaldo, famed of
old,

The tender and the brave, his soul on fire
With generous ardour, and his heart no
less
Inflamed with love's soft passion, dauntless
urged

His venturous way, though dangers con

jured up

In earth or hell against him, and at last Acquired the glorious meed of deathless fame,

And the far dearer prize for which he fought.

And if like him, by lawless passion ** driven,

I've strayed unheeding from bright honour's path,

And, caught with maddening pleasure, have

inhaled

The syren draught, and reeled with giddy

joy;

I too, like him, have waked, and wept, and mourned,

And fled the wild delirium; and I know
That thou, as his dear Clarice of old,
Wilt not refuse to take the wanderer home,
And soothe his woes, and lead him back to
bliss.

Ferrajo, Dec, 30th, 1818.

LINES

H.

On seeing the Sun set from Arthur Seal,
"Tis sweet at close of summer day,
When thrushes chaunt their evening lay,
Reclined on this romantic hill,
Where daylight's footsteps linger still,
To gaze upon yon western sky,
Where clouds of varied beauty lie,
Ting'd with the richest rays of light,
That beam with glory on the sight,
While the pure tints of evening's glow
Are mingled with their virgin snow.
But glorious as it is, and bright,
My eye finds more entranced delight
To turn from such a brilliant view,
And mark yon mist-clad mountains blue
Whose ridges seem to fancy's eye
To prop yon soft cerulean sky;
For lo! slow rising from the east,
In all a vestal's beauty drest,
Comes forth the sober Queen of night,
Array'd in robes of silver light;
Her sole companion from afar,
Scarce to be seen, a lonely star;
It sheds a soft and placid ray,
More sweet than all the pomp of day:】
I've hail'd it oft at eventide,

Where Tweed and Teviot's waters glide;
And now, though far from those fair scenes
Of waters, woods, and sloping greens,
I love to see its silver light
Fall softly on yon mountains' height.
But chief I love to see its ray
Upon the lake's smooth bosom play :---
It brings to mind those happy hours
When life seem'd strew'd with fairy flowers,
When on the banks of Tweed's fair stream
1 fondly woo'd youth's fairy dream,
And pictured days of future bliss
With all a boy's devotedness;
And wildly wished that childhood's day
Should like the waters glide away,-
Glide unpolluted, swift, and clear,
Till manhood's glorious sea appear.
Short-sighted boy, that wish how vain!
Embarked upon life's troubled main,
Too late thou knowest, thy anchor lost,
These boyish days to prize the most,
To wish that childhood's sinless morn,
With all its dreams would now return,
And yield that blessedness of mind
Which after years can never find.

1814.

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H.

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A

LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC INTELLIGENCE.

East Indies.The missionaries proceed -zealously with the translations of the Holy Scriptures, according to the following letter from one of them :

"A new edition of the New Testament, of 4000 copies, has been some little time begun, and the printing advanced to the middle of Matthew.

In the Bengalee, in which of course the version will be now as accurate as the brethren can expect ever to make it, and in which the opportunities for distribution are becoming daily more extensive, we have commenced a new edition of 5000 copies of the whole Scriptures, in a new and much reduced type, reduced by Brother Lawson, when he resided at Serampore. By means of this alteration we shall be able to comprise the whole Bible in one large octavo volume, of 850 pages, which has hitherto occupied five volumes of 800 pages each. The brethren intend to print 5000 additional Testaments, forming a thin volume of about 180 pages.

"In the Sanskrit, the Latin of the East, and intelligible to almost all the learned men throughout Hindoostan, the historical books have been completed, and the printing advanced to the middle of Jeremiah. We therefore expect to complete this volume within the next three months, and shall then have printed the whole of the Scriptures in that language.

The Hindee Bible is still farther advanced; and we fully expect that within a month the last part will be ready for distribution. We shall then have printed the first edition of the whole Scriptures, with a second edition of the New Testa

ment.

"In the Mahratta, the historical books have been printed off since the last memoir, and the Hagiographa advanced to the middle of Proverbs.

"In the Sikh, the Pentateuch is just completed, and the historical books begun.

"In the Chinese, we have just completed the Pentateuch, and are now proceeding with a second edition of the New Testa

ment.

"In the Telinga, the New Testament is printed as far as the Thessalonians; and we hope to have finished the volume ere this reaches you.

who was superintending the version, we are preparing to proceed with the printing as before. In the Kurnata we have finished Mark, and are proceeding with Luke; while in the Kunkuna, the Mooltanee, the Sindhee, the Kashmere, the Bikaneer, the Nepal, the Ooduypore, the Marwar, the Juypore, and the Khasse, not much progress in the printing has been made since the last Report, access to them in many cases being difficult; and their prosecution interfering with the supply of countries mote extensive and more easy of approach. As soon, however, as the Hindee and Sanskrit versions are completed, it is the intention of the brethren to proceed with them; while the return of brother Carapeit afforded a most favourable opportunity of distributing the gospel of St Matthew, already printed, in four of these languages.

"Although the printing of the Serampore translations has been in some degree retarded, by the printing of several elementary works for the Bengalee schools, as well as of the Roman Malay, and Armenian Bibles, for the Calcutta Auxiliary Bible Society, (a cause not much to be regretted,) you will be pleased to hear, that they were never proceeding with more rapidity than at present. The office now furnishes our venerable editor, Dr Carey, (independently of the Chinese proofs it forwards to Dr Marshman,) with twelve proofs per week on an average."

Temperature of Bombay.-The following table presents the number of rainy day's in Bombay in 1803 and 1804, years remarkable for the difference in their great leading features, the first being a year of unusual scarcity, the second of uncommon abundance.-

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"In the Pushtoo Testament, the printing is advanced as far as the 1st of Peter; and in the Assam and Wutch, to the Romans; while in the Bruj Bhassa, although a delay has arisen in consequence of the distance of Brother Chamberlain's station, General total,

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