they join, that offenses will come, and therefore man- || are, as a whole, better adapted to weaken the purposes fully brace themselves up for the conflict, and give themselves to God for life and salvation-for time and eternity. Sometimes Sunday schools are crowned immediately with success. A few years back we had a very hard struggle to establish one in a certain village. Some of our oldest and best members opposed us, and all through their honest zeal for the glory of God. They looked upon it as a gross violation of the holy Sabbath. The young members were with us; but we were under the necessity of accepting the services of some who were not religious, though of respectable standing. A young man of this character took a class and was very useful. While thus engaged he became deeply concerned about his own soul. One Sabbath he went into the woods, and while deeply engaged with God, he was powerfully converted. He came to the meeting-house, and told the people what the Lord had done for him. He then went from house to house-from family to family. The whole neighborhood seemed to be awakened, and in a few weeks, more than one hun dred were added to the Church. Let this work of "training" be accomplished by what means it may, there is a glorious promise connected with it for our encouragement, "They shall not depart from it." I once understood this as a general rule, and used to say to myself as I read it, "There is no general rule without exceptions." But I now understand it as an untempered declaration of Almighty God, "They shall not depart from it." "Well," says one, "I know of children who have been correctly trained up, in every respect, who have departed from their early principles and have become deplorably wicked." If the education of such was entirely correct, we should then inquire, were they trained up (i. e.) to manhood-to womanhood? We know of numbers who were trained up-up to ten, twelve, thirteen, and then had the reins thrown completely into their own hands; but show us one who has been trained up, even to manhood, in the doctrines, practice, and enjoyment of the Christian religion, (in the way he should go,) and we will show you one who "will not depart." Is the May number of the Repository, are some valuable hints from the pen of J. E. Snodgrass, M. D., in regard to the genius and poetry of Byron. He has placed the moral profligacy of the poet in a very just light. But the proofs of his lordship's gross and repulsive depravity may be accumulated to almost any ex tent. Certain tokens of his incorrigible and deliberate intention to countenance vice in its grossest forms, should not be overlooked. of virtue, and render sin in all its forms tolerable, and even attractive. Its tendency is to destroy our reverence for the most sacred private relations, and induce us to scorn the vows by which those relations are assumed. It has done more than the writings of any one infidel, to render the Bible ridiculous, and ease the consciences of the licentious of its wholesome and needful restraints. The story itself, not to mention its profane and obscene paragraphs, is of the very worst tendency. Don Juan has for his father Don Jose, who at his death leaves the child to be educated by his mother, whose attributes are set forth with much minuteness. She is said to be But then she had a devil of a spirit." This is manifest from the fact, that the child's training was by the use of books wherein the moral filth of the world, in its most polluted ages, seems to have been treasured up for future use. At thirteen, this young serpent starts on a most hopeful career of doings and indulgences, for which we have no name. If the mother has one devil, the son has legions. The recital proceeds in innuendo, double entendre, and unvailed first Canto, which represents the young Don as sucgrossness of allusion and expression, to the close of the cessful in his assaults upon the integrity and bliss of a pure and happy family, which constitutes his first conquest. the word of God, take the following. In his description As an example of the manner in which Byron treats of Inez, the mother of Don Juan, he says"She liked the English and the Hebrew tongues, And said there was analogy between 'em; She proved it somehow out of sacred songs; But I must leave the proofs with those who've seen em; And all may think which way their judgments lead 'em; 'Tis strange the Hebrew noun, which means, 'I am,' The English always use to govern d--n!" Referring to one of the most solemn lessons of sacred Scripture, the rich man and Lazarus, he speaks as follows: A drop of dew, when every drop had seemed His profane and blasphemous allusions to sacred writ are so frequent and gross, as to betray the poet's hostility to divine revelation. Byron was, in the worst sense, an infidel, a blasphemer, a debauchee—as reckless as Satan of all rights, human and divine; and his life and all its fruits are more easily likened to the devil's entrance into paradise and his business there, than to any thing else in this world's history. After so much against him, it may be expected that something will be said for him. Nothing can be said to mitigate, but much to aggravate the above charges. Perhaps none of his productions afford more numer- It is not praising him to confess his talents. On this ous and unequivocal proofs of his depravity than Don point I might or might not agree with Mr. Snodgrass. Juan. And I will add, that few books in our language It is partly true, as that gentleman says, that “his longest poems are mere patch-work." It is wholly true | The former baits the understanding, the latter the affec that they are "histories of his own despicable career, tions. Paine would make a deist of the moralist, and and of the just desertions of his friends." The wretch so outsinned the charity and patience of mankind, that he could not sketch the folly and foulness of highhanded villany without sitting for his own likeness. But withal, Byron had talents. He possessed the poet's frenzy in an unusual degree. Even his "patchwork" displays, in spots, much attraction-the attraction of skillfully wrought shapes and shades. The storm and shipwreck in which the reprobate Don is cast away, furnishes an example. It is an admirable description. Scarcely any thing excels it. There are other beauties in his minor poems, to which they who have any acquaintance with his writings will readily advert, and which are almost inimitably beautiful, pathetic, and sublime, for he sometimes excelled in each. We cannot deny, therefore, that his lordship possessed talents, and that genius is impressed on his productions. In affluence and variety and felicity of expression, in splendor of imagery and in striking delineations of character, few, if any, have excelled Lord Byron. But I repeat it, this confession is no eulogy. It is his dishonor and shame. To what uses did he devote his talents? Did he benefit mankind? We know not if a creature in the universe could rise up and call him blessed; but if all whom he has injured, even at this early period, should curse him, the world would scarcely contain the maledictions which souls defiled and damned by his incantations, would heap on his detested memory. permit him, if he chose, to hold on to his morality. Byron observes a different order. Commencing with the affections, he would thoroughly corrupt them; for when he has cultivated the vilest passions of our nature, he knows that infidelity, as in his own case, must be called in, to relieve conscience of its burdens. This is the worst kind of infidelity, for it not only renders a cure difficult in itself, but induces the patient to spurn the remedies by which that cure might be effected. I have seen a duodecimo of three hundred pages, containing the beauties of Byron. A glance induced me to believe that its selections embraced all from his pen that is really worth reading; and at all events, they display his style of thought and expression. There is one objection even to this. Some who read it will not be satisfied till they read more. A taste will excite appetite, and tempt them to explore the garden, if such it seem; and whether they be granted or forbidden, partake of all its fruits. As to females, if they will look into Byron, let them procure a selection. If expurgated editions of Horace are put into the hands of our sons, for decency's sake let Byron be purified by a thorough process before it passes under the eyes of our daughters. Let them be taught that his productions in mass are contaminating, and that to touch them is like sitting in the gallery of a theatre, and making its occupants their companions. The selection just referred to, contains all that a lady ought to admire-all that she should not blush to have What parent, brother or husband, possessing the least delicacy, can see a female relative tracing the detestable adventures of Don Juan, and evidently taking pleasure in its filthy recitals, without mortification, if not disgust? Were I to see a friend of mine, after reading- In one particular Byron differs from nearly all wri-read. ters. The most vicious authors, who cared nothing for good morals or true religion, found it difficult to write much or long without dropping some hints in favor of both. Burns seems to have had nothing less at heart than to recommend religion; yet his "Cotter's Saturday Night" presents piety in a form of unaffected dignity and attractiveness. But Byron's productions seem to be evil only. Like human nature forsaken of God's Spirit, they are totally depraved. He stands almost alone among voluminous writers, in that he always employed his gifts to commend evil. And he aided the persuasion by the force of his own gross example. Men's lives and precepts often disagree; but Byron was consistent. His muse and morals are in harmony, if harmony can be applied to that which springs from perdition, and wars against Jehovah. "This was Don Juan's earliest scrape, but whether I shall proceed with his adventures, is go on to devour a second Canto of these libertine abomDependent on the public altogether," inations, I should wish her no nearer related to me than tenth or fifteenth cousin; and even of that the world might be ignorant. Byron himself had misgivings whether the vicious would tolerate the vileness of his verse. Could he anticipate that not only actresses, but ladies, and some professedly Christian ladies, would not only tolerate, but would read it with greater zest than they do their Bibles? No. With all his conThe question has often been asked, "Should Christians read Byron?" It is not difficult to answer. virtue, these developments of moral depravity were tempt of human nature, and his covert scorn of female They should not allow his works a place in their libra- ultra even to him. They were more favorable than his ries. A Christian parent, who places Don Juan and fears, and exceeded his very hopes. He had the fullest Childe Harolde within reach of his children, is under confidence in woman's frailty; yet he was made to Satanic influence. I would rather give my baptized wonder at her forwardness to become the victim of palchildren the writings of Hobbes, Hume, Paine and pable treachery. Like Satan in paradise, he believed Owen. Then they will be warned before-hand. Don she could be insnared, but was surprised to see her step Juan is an insinuating poison. It works impercepti-into an unconcealed snare. Experimenting, he found bly, but surely. It has not so much the logic as the some ready to do so; hence those successive Cantos, sentiment of infidelity. Paine attempts to drive relig- which are fit only for the perdition which inspired ion from the head, but Byron expels it from the heart. them. H. 183 THE BURIAL OF NAPOLEON. THE BURIAL OF NAPOLEON.* BANNERS are waving out on high, And myriads shore-ward tread; Helena's rock-built, sea-girt isle, Gives up its mighty dead. And 'mid the glad, exulting shout, The peal of carabine, What name upon the air rings out? Napoleon-'tis thine. The gallant bark is safely moor'd, That bore thee o'er the surge, Where low winds sighed above thy head, And billows hymm'd thy dirge. And loyal France, with pomp and state, Receives thee, conqueror; Pass on, not to thy palace gate, Yet on, pale sleeper from afar, 'Mid the loud trumpet's swell, The far-off roll of muffled drum, And the deep gun's farewell. And banners proudly stream; And here thy home, O fame's bright son, And now within the hallowed fane They bear the imperial clay; Yet, ere beyond the trophied nave Thy gorgeous bier hath passed, "Tis o'er-the song of victory, Of triumph, and of fame; And monarch's requiem, too, hath passed, To gaze upon their glorious dead Their long-lost emperor. "Tis thee-but where the spirit, where, That lit the royal shrine? Say, did it, viewless, hover near That worshiped form of thine? Yet O! Napoleon-what to thee Whether these lines are original, we cannot say. They come to us without name or signature.-EDs. Was the loud paan's swell; The splendid, hollow pageantry— The welcome, and farewell? Thou dwellest 'mid the noble dead, Where fretted lamps soft radiance shed . Along the banner'd aisle; Where monarch's proud mausoleums, Dim, fitful shadows cast; And rich, proud music stirs the air, There is thy dreamless home. Thou sleep'st where royal banners wave, The slumberer in the lowliest grave, 184 POETRY OF THE COSSACKS. CONDENSED REVIEW. the thirteenth century. The necessity of flight to prePOETRY OF THE COSSACKS. serve life was the origin of Cossackism-Cossack still THE March number of that splendid periodical, the meaning in the cast an independent warrior. There American Eclectic, contains among its selections an were Cossacks of the Don and those of the Dnieper. article on the History and Literature of the Cossacks. From the first were derived the various branches of the It exhibits the Cossack in an aspect of surpassing eastern Cossacks-from the second sprung the people of interest. It was already known that this rude, half Little Russia, or the Ukraine. They were also divided savage people, have a literature, and that their genius into married and unmarried-the former being known is poetical; but the writer was not aware, until the dis-as Cossacks of Ukraine, the latter as Zaporogues. closure was made by this article, that their poetry indi-Those of Ukraine spread northwards; settling desert cates genius of the highest order, and sheds a moral regions and multiplying, they are now known as the splendor on their name. It is affecting to receive these inhabitants of Little Russia. As to the Zaporogues, evidences of the dignity of the human mind, which, they possessed a savage grandeur of character. even amidst a people of whom until recently we scarcely knew any thing, but that they were semi-barbarous, and seemed likely to remain so till the millennium, is revealed in shades perfectly, and I had almost said divinely beautiful and attractive. The article before us is from the Foreign Quarterly, and is a review of "Songs of Ukraine, published by Maxymowicz, at Moscow, 1834;" or if the reader would see the title in its home dress 66 Both the Zaporogues and Little Russians were, in the fourteenth century, the subjects of Poland. Their revolt was provoked principally by the Jesuits and the Jews. The Cossacks butchered these disturbers of their religion, and a war of one hundred years followed. The partition of Poland ensued, and involved the combatants in one common misfortune. The reviewer proceeds: "It is impossible to sketch here the history of the ‘Piesni Ukrainskie, wydane przez P. Maxymowicz, Ukraine, so interesting in every point of view; but our w Moskwie, 1834." The review commences with the middle ages, and presents the Cossacks as a confederacy of warriors, perfectly militant in their habits, who won their name of reproach (Cossacks being equivalent, in the opinion of mankind, to that of robbers and savages) from the bold and persevering prowess with which they defended their religion and their homes. readers may easily conceive that an infinite variety of characters and richness of color must be its distinguishing features. Let them but recollect the concluding chapters of the history of ancient Russia, and think of the savage warriors of Gengiskan pitching their tents under the walls of the majestic temples of Kiow, while the desponding fugitives gathered on the islands of the Dnieper, amidst marshes covered with impenetrable thickets, and surrounded by caverns and glassy lakes. Again, let them call to mind their bold navigation, daring even to madness; their adventurous expeditions both on land and water, guided only by the flight of birds, the current of winds, and the aspect of the stars; let them figure to themselves the appearance on the To Polewoy, a Russian, and Gnorowski, a Polish writer, the reviewer is principally indebted for his historical facts. The sketch informs us that the vast region between the Lower Don and the Lower Dnieper was from remote antiquity traversed by erratic tribes, and that even so late as the 16th century, traveling was as unsafe in those regions as it now is among the Be-banks of the Dnieper of the Lithuanian Dukes, Olgerd douin Arabs. For one whole century the Tartars persevered in the invasion of southern Russia. Gnorowski, the Polander, thus describes the attendant scenes of bloodshed and horror: and Vitold, in caps of wolf-skin, and clothed in the fur of bears, armed with bundles of arrows and monster guns; and then let them contemplate the growing connection of the Cossacks with Lithuania and Poland, and their subsequent civilization; their settlements on "The barbarian hordes in their sudden attacks over-both banks of the Dnieper, the appearance of their new powered the inhabitants and seized the fruits of their toil, before the warlike proprietors of the adjacent castles could descend to their defense. Prompt in aggression, prompter still in flight, they dragged into infamous captivity the youth of both sexes, driving off the herds, and leaving behind them only heaps of ashes and the corpses of the aged. Notwithstanding this immense havoc, the population still renewed itself upon that beautiful soil, 'cut up,' as says a Sclavonian poet, 'by the tramp of horses, fertilized by human blood, and white with bones, where sorrow grew abundantly,'and that population, like the soil, never ceased to be Sclavonian." The Cossacks were wanderers, and their errant mode of life commenced with the destruction of the grods or villages of Russia, by the Tartars, about the middle of enemies the Tatars of the Crimea, the separation of the Zaporogues and their cruel supremacy over the Ukraine, their long series of famous chiefs from Ostafieff Daszkowicz down to the great Chmielnicki and the mysterious old Mazeppa; the singular education of the clergy of Kiow under Polish influence; the something at once chivalrous and pedantic in the aristocracy of Little Russia; the savage Lithuano-Asiatic tinge in the character of the people, this motley compound of Asia and Europe, of nomadic and settled life, of servility and independence, of weakness and energy; and finally the contemporaneous political intercourse of Poland with Muscovy, Turkey and the Crimea. From such elements arise the coloring and composition of this most singular of historical groups. "The five centuries during which this drama was POETRY OF THE COSSACKS. 185 "The Duma,' says he, 'are poems usually sung by the Badura. They differ from the songs by their narrative or epic character, and in their rhythmical construction, consisting of an indefinite number of syllables. It often happens, however, that, owing to the lyric turn of the people, a Duma assumes the character of a song, as well as its rhythm and measure. verse of the Duma is usually rhymed, its subject historical.' The acted, passed rapidly away, but not so the remarkable people who to this day still retain their original nationality. M. Polewoy has beautifully painted the peculiar physiognomy of the Ukraine and her inhabitants. "Under a pure and serene sky,' says he, are spread out the boundless steppes of Ukraina, of which it was long ago said, "In this Ukraina the sky is extraordinarily tranquil, and bad weather is never seen nor heard of there." The Ukrainian is slow, taciturn, difficult of speech, does not bow himself as does the native of Great Russia, does not promise much, but is shrewd and intelligent, and respects the word both given and received. Whilst the one lives entirely in the present, the other lives all in the past. Would you gain the friendship of the Ukrainian, be not pressing, for he is suspicious; but rather take part in his Cossack-like existence, for he is proud of the events of past times. Remind him of these, let him see that you admire his ancestors, and his countenance will brighten, his vivacity will be called forth, his heart will beat stronger; thened by the Cossacks over the Poles at Cechryn. It you may converse with him enough. You will be opens with serious and pious reflections. admitted into the sanctuary of his joys and sorrows, you will at length hear his song of the steppe, and be astonished at the cheerfulness of his disposition.' "To complete this definition, it must be added, that the Badura are, or rather were (for they are now becoming scarce) professional singers in Ukraine; a kind of bards or minstrels, or rather of rhapsodists, for every thing there points to beautiful Greece. Some of the Duma are, in fact, fragments of a regular epic, whilst others are mere rhymed chronicles, similar to those found amongst all nations, as their first essays, at recording the events of their early history. As a specimen of the former, we select a Duma relative to a victory gain "O! in our famed Ukraina there has been many a terrible moment, many a season of unhappiness; there have been plagues and broils of war; there were none to help the Ukrai nians; none sent up prayers for them to God; the holy God alone, he did not forget us; he assisted us to arrest the mighty armies, to drive back the enemy. The fierce tempests have passed away; they have sunk into stillness; none have been able to conquer us!-Not for one day, nor for two, did the Lachy (the Poles) plunder Ukraina. They did not grant a moment's respite; day and night their horses stood bridled; they trod the paths to our Hetman Nalevayko; and what does the brave Hetman meditate and design? What is the fate he prepares for his companions? Only the holy God knows-the holy God who assists him with his might.' "The Duma thus alludes to the approach of the Poles: "The Polish army takes position, and the trumpets sound; the Duma thus proceeds: "These songs still resound on both banks of the Dnieper, though ages must have rolled away before any heed was given to them. They were distasteful to the Poles, for these songs were wet with their blood, and the Russians have only of late begun to take interest in letters. It was not till after the passions which had so long divided the Ukrainians and the Poles had been quenched in the blood of several generations, that the latter turned with sympathy to their former subjects, and to this sympathy, the offspring of their common misfortune, the people of Ukraine will be indebted for the "From beyond the mountain a cloud rises-it rises, it comes preservation of their history and literature, the two forth-it thunders towards Czechryn; it sends forth its lightstrong-holds of their crushed nationality. Lach Szyrmaning over Ukraina; it is the Poles who have thrice crossed was the first Pole who drew the attention of the public || three rivers.' to these subjects by printing two songs of the Ukraine, in a periodical edited at Vilno in 1824. The Russian Prince Certeleff followed his example, and collected and published several others. Sometime afterwards a large collection of Polish and Russian popular songs was printed at Lemberg, with their respective melodies, arranged by the celebrated composer Lipinski. A still richer contribution was expected from Chodakowski, a Pole who devoted his life and fortune to the subject. His premature death cut short these hopes, but the songs collected by him fortunately fell into the hands of M. Maxymowicz, who, assisted by some Russians, at length effected the publication of nearly three thousand songs of the Ukraine, at Moscow, in 1834. These songs, some of which might more properly be called epic poems, if skillfully arranged in proper order, joined to an ancient poem on the expedition of Igor, a Russian Duke, the work of an unknown author, might fairly take place by the side of the Niebelungen, if not indeed by that of the Ilias itself. 66 The songs published by M. Maxymowicz, may be divided into the Duma, and the songs proper. Vol. I.-24 "Those are not clouds thundering with sacred thunder in the heavens; those are not saints being led into the presence of God. They are the Lachy, beating their drums and sounding their pipes and trumpets.' "The Duma, strictly speaking, is an heoric elegy, consecrated to the memory of some distinguished chief. The following, remarkable for simplicity and pathos, commemorates the death of the Hetman Swiergowski: "When the Hetman John Swiergowski Their trumpets they blew, and his head on a spear Yonder see a cloud descending, Ravens gathering on the plain, She mourns and weeps her Hetman slain; Then black eagles soared past, screaming, |