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tyrs; and are a sort of tacit confession that we cannot put those fellows down by any arguments but those of power. I hope I shall never hear of another ex officio against any of the people of the press. Let such folk as Professor Leslie appeal to twelve Edinburgh shopkeepers, and a wise old judge, to prove his knowledge of oriental languages, when not one of judge, jury, or scarcely witnesses, knew a letter of the tongue they were engaged about; but do not let us commit the absurdity of assigning the defence of all our constitutional principles to the stray verdict of any twelve honest and dunderpated individuals who may be picked up in Westminster. We are on firmer ground, I flatter myself.

As for Schlegel, I do not know much about him. His lectures are clever, and cleverly translated; but he does not appear to be a man whose opinions will have much influence out of Germany, or even in it. There is some clever criticism, and some jacobinical spite, in the Review before us.

Article III.-The Magnet has no attraction for me. It may, however, be cleverly and scientifically managed for anything I know; but I imagine the multitude of review-buyers will feel as I do.

The next article, on Italy, is written in a very puppy style indeed. It ought to have been in the Edinburgh; but it consoles me to think that it quite knocks up all the fine reasoners, who, like Hobhouse, Lady Morgan, &c., sigh over the oppressions suffered by Italy, and curse the Holy Alliance for not restoring those admirable governments which formerly prevailed in the garden of Europe. Hear our Radical commenting on Viesseux's clever book.

"Under the ancient republic of Genoa, the Patricians seem to have exercised the most uncontrolled oppression over the inferior classes. In suits at law, for instance, ⚫ a common citizen had no chance against a nobleman, for, although the courts might condemn the latter, he was generally able to bid defiance to the law.' In proof of this he relates a most horrible, and, we would fain hope, impossible story, of a bailiff serving a writ for debt upon a Genoese nobleman, who immediately seized the unfortunate officer, and baked him alive in a heated oven. The name of republic applied to the ancient governments of Genoa, Venice, Lucca, and the other Italian states, must not mislead us with regard to the real meaning of that term. They were

crushed beneath the oppressive power of an Aristocratical Oligarchy, by whom, collectively and individually, every sort of injustice and tyranny were practised with impunity. The people possessed no representation and no freedom; their personal lipress, were under complete restraint, and berty, their actions, speech, writings, and the system of petty domestic espionage that went forward, made them even more intolerable than could have been the tyranny of mightier powers. The Genoese flag is now free and respected everywhere; while under their ancient government, they did not dare to lose sight of their native shores, except in well-armed vessels, for fear of being taken by the Barbary corsairs, and their days in slavery and despair.'” carried to Algiers and Tunis, there to end

Nay, more even the great Napoleon, who is the god of the idolatry of these consistent reasoners, does not come in for more direct panegyric. Under this able chief,

"With respect to civil justice and policy, all commerce was prohibited, as a crime

punishable with death. Trade was consequently at a stand. Artisans were ruined. The natural produce of the soil rotted, neglected and unused. By the Milan decree of December 17th, 1806, that famous clilish goods, imported at antecedent periods, max of injustice and oppression, all Engwhen their importation had been lawful, were sequestrated. The warehouses and shops of the merchants and shopkeepers were rifled of the goods they had lawfully imported, and honestly paid for; and without any compensation to the owners, who were frequently, by the seizure of their stock, reduced in one day from competence and honest industry to beggary and crime, they were piled in the market-place and burnt. And this took place from the Po to the Tiber! Men were afterwards publicly executed for importing a few bales of English goods, or holding correspondence of any kind with England. With respect to freedom of thought and discussion, it is well known that the press was under the most complete bondage, reduced to a mere engine of despotism; the restrictions upon writing were carried to the most severe, and often ridiculous height, so that the most harmless, nay, sometimes the most adulatory remarks, drew down vengeance on the unwary head of the luckless scribbler. Mr Viesseux gives an amusing instance of this:

"The editor of a weekly journal of Milan, called "Il Corriero delle Dame," which was chiefly filled with accounts of the fashions, and with light poetical effusions, giving also a brief summary of the news of the week, extracted from official journals, happened to insert in one of his numbers the following words: "The des

tinies of Etruria appear to be arrived at their maturity." This passage was shown to Napoleon, who, offended that his views should be made known before the time, ordered the editor to be confined in a madhouse. This was executed, and the unfortunate editor was very near losing his rea son in sober earnest, from the company into which he was thus forced.'-Vol. I. pp. 293, 294.

"Another ill-fated scribe, Gioja, of Piacenza, although he had previously written a whole book in praise of the French, having published a little pamphlet, laughing at some of the ministers, was instantly banished the kingdom of Italy. Lampredi, a third journalist, having ventured to make some remarks on the style of a funeral oration, composed by one of the counsellors of state, was summoned before the police, severely reprimanded, and ordered never, on any account, to presume to criticize the compositions of any member of government. The indignant writer immediately left the kingdom. But it would fill volumes to give any adequate idea of the gigantic, yet minute tyranny, of the iron rule of the French over Italy. Beneath a despotic and military law; a band of slaves, which drained the country of its wealth to support foreign wars; a conscription, which tore fathers, and husbands, and sons, from the bosoms of their families, to perish in distant lands; a domestic dominion of foreigners, ignorant of their language, their laws, their customs, and their prejudices; the Italians beheld property confiscated, commerce prohibited, literature annihila. ted, arts withering amid wide-spreading poverty and ruin; and even their proudlycherished treasures of painting and sculpture transported to other realms, to grace the palaces of their masters! What had they in compensation for these new evils? Better roads, and a stricter police! It is quite a mistake to suppose that the French government was liked by the people of Italy. The most determined and bloody, though hopeless resistance to it, was manifested from first to last by the peasantry. From the Tyrol to the farthest mountains of Calabria, insurrection, like a hundredheaded Hydra, no sooner was put down in one place than it showed itself in another."

Yet the cruel and hard-hearted tyrant who did all this is Mr Hobhouse's hero, and the lamented of Sir Richard Phillips.

Article V.-Exportation of Machinery. Another article too late; for Huskisson is doing, while these gentlemen are saying. Why does not this reviewer favour us with his opinions as to the propriety of suppressing the laws against witchcraft, or say something smart against the existence of mitred abbots ?


Article VI. THE CORN LAWS!!!! -Oh, Ceres, Ceres! would you were with your daughter Proserpine!

Next enters Jeremiah himself, in propria persona, mounted on his own hobby-prison discipline. Jerry invented a roundabout, to trap all sorts of malefactors, whom he divided into 756 species, or some other equally exact and practical division. This plan a Quarterly reviewer demolished, and here is the answer in a review of James Mills' article in the Supplement, concocted by the immortal commentator brethren in arms clawing one another. on Bacon. It is pleasant to see these I hope, Doctor, that when I publish my long-expected work, you will review it yourself, and pronounce me "the distinguished author of the Letters to Eminent Literary Characters," as is done here. A whole work should be written "On the mutual Puffery of the Reviewers-its Scope and Tendency." I have abundant materials gathered for the purpose, and they are at your service. There is some sense and some nonsense in this article, but I had rather extract the attack and defence of Jeremiah.

Panopticon attracted a good deal of atten"In 1793 or 1794, Jeremy Bentham's

tion. Sir William Blackstone and Mr Eden

again interested themselves in the subject, der this act fifty-three acres in Tothill and the 34 Geo. 3, c. 60, was passed; unFields were purchased for L.12,000, and conveyed to Mr Bentham, and he also received L.2000 from the Treasury, to enaly be doubted that Sir William Blackstone ble him to make preparations. It can hardand Mr Eden, in coming forward at this time, thought they were advancing their favourite design of a penitentiary; but, in truth, the statues of the 19 and 34 Geo. 3d were totally inconsistent with each other. The Panopticon was not only not a penitentiary, but its principle was directly opposed to it. It was fortunate for the country that this also fell to the ground. say anything harsh of Mr Bentham, as the We do not desire to go out of our way to inventor of a prison system, and we by no means intend to insinuate that he dealt with the government on illiberal terms; but his scheme appears to us to have been wholly visionary-to have been without any proper checks, or lasting securities relying solely on his own personal charac ter, abilities, and responsibility; and addressing itself to the reformation of criminals, upon principles unsound and unphi. losophical. If it had been tried, IT COULD NOT HAVE SUCCEEDED, and, in its illsuccess, MIGHT have ruined, or, at least.

indefinitely retarded, the progress of the great cause of Prison Improvement.'-P. 427, 428."

To this the Reviewer replies by wit -O ye gods-what wit!-but no fact whatever. But Jerry at last loses temper, and concludes with this precious bit.

“Truly, the situation of this reviewer is most unfortunate, much more deplorable even than that in which he supposed Mr Bentham to be placed. Mr Bentham, divested of philosophy, might rely upon his own personal character, abilities, and responsibility.' But the reviewer, alas! upon what can he rely? Concerning his personal character' and 'responsibility,' we are entirely in the dark. As to his abilities,' if we are to judge from his article, they will scarcely enable us to dispense with proper checks,' or 'lasting securities.""**


How cool the patriarch is-not vexed in the least. You sec, Doctor, he despises these fellows.

Article VIII.-Emigration-Pretty fair, but horridly prosy. It is, however, well worth reading.

ploits of kindred spirits, lays it down as a rule,

"That dunce with dunce is barbarous civil war."

The ninth article, on Boaden's Kemble, is as dull and stupid as the subject. Author and reviewer are equally good-and yet the latter, with that strange perversion of instinct which we often see among the inferior animals, attacks the former. The reviewer should forbear; remembering that that poem, which commemorates the ex

Of the last article-The Quarantine Laws-I am an incompetent judge; but I think it clever and decisive of the question. In this I am glad to be borne out by the testimony of the Morning Chronicle, who pronounces it an able article. You may be sure, Doctor, that this is an impartial testimony, when I tell you, that the Westminster Review pronounces that eminent print to be" a journal in which we have now been long accustomed to look for excellence of all sorts." "Arcades ambo

Et cantare pares, et respondere parati."

Finally, and to conclude, if the Westminster wishes to go down, it cannot take a better way of accomplishing its end than by collecting such articles as these in its last. Why I shall be sorry for such a consummation, I have said already.

And here, farewell-for now the westering sun

Flings lengthening shadows from yon
mountain old;
The tedious labour of my day is done,
My voice is wearied, and my tale is told.

T. T.



A FAIR place and pleasant, this same world of ours!
Who says there are serpents 'mongst all the sweet flowers?
Who says ev'ry blossom we pluck has its thorn?
Pho! pho! laugh those musty old sayings to scorn.

If you roam to the Tropics for flowers rich and rare,
No doubt there are serpents, and deadly ones there;
If none but the Rose will content ye, 'tis true,
You may get sundry scratches, and ugly ones too.

But prithee, look there-Could a Serpent find room
In that close woven moss, where those violets bloom?
And reach me that woodbine-You'll get it with ease-
Now, Wiseacre! where are the thorns, if you please?

I say there are Angels in every spot,
Though our dim earthly vision discerneth them not,
That they're guardians assign'd to the least of us all,
By Him who takes note if a sparrow but fall.

That they're aye flitting near us, around us, above,
On missions of kindness, compassion, and love-
That they're glad when we're happy, disturb'd at our tears;
Distress'd at our weaknesses, failings, and fears.

That they care for the least of our innocent joys, Though we're cozen'd like children, with trifles and toys; And can lead us to bloom-beds, and lovely ones too, Where snake never harbour'd, and thorn never grew. VOL. XVII.

4. K


Noctes Ambrosianae.

No. XX.


PHOC. ap. Ath.

[This is a distich by wise old Phocylides,
An ancient who wrote crabbed Greek in no silly days;

An excellent rule of the hearty old cock 'tis-
And a very fit motto to put to our Noctes.]

ap. Ambr.


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C. N.

CHORUS-O, Jenny's a' weet, &c.

Gin a body meet a body
Coming down the glen,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need the warld ken?

CHORUS-O, Jenny's a' weet, &c.


Leeze me on ye-ye're aye at the auld wark, lads.
NORTH, (after a general shake.)
Take a chair, my good fellow.-Have ye dined?


Only once; but I think I can make a fend till supper-time. Whare's the Bailie?


I have just been reading his letter of apology. He is too busy to trust himself here to-night. The month is advancing, you know.


And a bonny-like month it has been. I hae a month's mind to gie the Bailie a touzle when we foregather. Him turned ane o' the Pluckless too!-Oh fie! Oh fie! What will this warld come to?


What do you allude to?—I have not seen Ebony these two or three days; but the last time we met, he was well-mounted, and seemed in high feather every way.


Muntit !-Him, and a' the lave o' them, should munt the creepie chair, I trow, for what they've been doing-Votin' their freedom to that hallinshaker Brougham!-Deil mean them!

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Come, I believe our good friend did as much as a single individual could well do. But the Provost and all were agreed about the thing.


O, vera weel; if he protested, that's another maiter-I am dumb.


Heaven bless us, James!-You rusticals make a wonderful fuss among yourselves about smallish concerns. Was all this fiery face of yours about giving Mr Brougham the freedom of the city of Edinburgh?-Poh! nonsense, James.


Nonsense yoursell, Mr North. It was a black-burning shame, it was; and that I'se stand to, tho' ye should a' take the ither gait.—(Aside.) There's something in the air, surely.


Ha, ha, ha! What a rumpus about nothing!-Brougham and the Bailies! -Ha, ha, ha!-Make your tumbler, James. You'll come to your wits by and by.

HOGG, (aside.)
I think ye've won past yours, my carle!
MULLION, (aside.)

Hush, James.-North's quizzing all the while, man.


I dinna understand some folk's ways. What gin ye're only just jeering at me a' this time, Mr North?


Not just so neither, my dear. I confess, that in one point of view, I take this business in quite as serious disgust as yourself; but the ludicrous of it, the merely ridiculous, predominates.

Not over the peasant.


As if the sense of ridicule interfered in any way with the sense of disgust.


In me, for one, the Whigs have the knack of exercising both of them in most harmonious unison.



I can laugh as weel as anybody at the silly doings of harmless creatures o' ony species. But I cannot laugh at speeders, or vermin, and dirt o' that order. I hate the Whigs.


There's the mistake. Now I, for my part, only despise them; and I find no difficulty in despising them, and smiling at them at the same time. You are with me, Timothy?


To the backbone.-But, after all, this is merely a dispute about vocables, or at best about the feelings of different moods. Many's the time and oft, I'll be sworn, that Jamie Hogg's honest hatred melts, or swells, if you like that better, into as balmy and soul-soothing a calm noble contempt, as even Christopher, The Imperturbable, would desire to be indulged with in a summer day.


Ay, or a winter night either, which is a much better thing.

That's as it may happen, Captain.


But ye sec, Mr North, ye should really

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