And signs, and talismans, as in the halls Of parent Egypt; not with pensive eye, And dim, as though 't were wearied from its watch The host of Heaven, and mapped their mazy march," &c.—pp. 96, 97. contrast with the false masonry, as Shenstone would call it, of the six following lines, each of which begins with three short syllables. These are good lines. The versification, too, is easily perceived, even by the unpractised ear, to be vigorous and correct; and its harmony is brought out in still more striking relief from its "While the bright dew on her tiara'd brow, As we advance in the fourth part of the "Reverie," we approach the climax of what is excellent in Xeniola. The poet rises above himself; and at last bursts into an apostrophe to the soul of his inspiration so noble, so dignified, so sublime, that we know of no modern effort which breathes so wholly the divine afflatus, if we except, perhaps, Where the Almighty's form We beg the attention of our readers to the lines we have marked in italics, and challenge the living poets of our country to match them if they are able, "Spirit of Heaven, undying Poetry, Wert throned o'er Angels! thou alone could'st look Was heard amid the halls of heaven, no breath Gazed on thy winning looks, and hung in trance And Man arose in grandeur?-Thou didst weep "I may not venture on such theme: I feel We have waked Numbers too lofty. Rest we here awhile!"-pp. 103–105. We would gladly conclude our notice of this interesting volume here, where our approbation has warmed into praise, in proportion as our author's style has towered into sublimity; but we feel it our duty as reviewers to point the reader's attention to some translations which appear in the volume. They are from German authors; and in some we are given no clue to the original, so that criticism must be silent. The stanzas of S. E. Wilhelmina Von Sassen, are too different from those by Matthisson with the same refrain, to please us. "Ich denke dein, Wenn durch den Hain Die Nachtigallen Accorde Schallen, Wenn denkst du mein?" &c. The translation from De la Motte Fouqué is, as a piece of English poetry, even and good. We have had no opportunity of examining its merits as a translation; however, we will take Faust as a pledge for the author's general faithfulness to his original. Few poems have ever been so literal as his Faustus. Desultory poetic taste is so happily adumbrated in the following lines, extracted from a scene in Fouqué's drama, that we step out of our province as reviewers of the translation to quote the passage for the moral it conveys : "I know the land of the evening sunOf the giant oak-of the cloud and stormWhose lakes are roofed with ice. Where the morning rises chill, And the night, from dreary wing, Showers hoar-frost on the shrinking flowers; And warriors, clad in arms, are there Loud-sounding, splendid, heavy arms of steel; Swords in their hands, unlike the scimitar; The blade unbent, and double-edged, cuts straight Into the faces of the enemy; From the heavy-visored helm A cloud of many-coloured plumes Streams in the playful breeze. And my friends wished that I should be a soldier, Already had I learned to bend The war-horse to my will; Already with an active arm, But, as I rested after my first battle, There came, with friendly words, a gray old man. The magic of his voice! Rapidly, rapidly I followed him ; I threw away the shield that burthened me, I threw away from me the encumbering sword, The tale was ended-the old man was vanished. The soft silk, light and delicate, And feel no wounds but those of Love!"-pp. 161–163. We almost regret that Dr. Anster allowed the poem "On the death of the Princess Charlotte," to form a part of the present collection. It is a prize poem in blank verse. Prize-poems are seldom highly prized beyond the walls where they have been read; besides, the subject is one which, in our opinion, would be best treated in a more compressed and condensed form; nevertheless there are, as the reader will observe, passages of considerable power scattered throughout the composition. We cannot help regretting that the loss of the child is not brought forward more prominently. What admirable use has Milton made of the infant, where in a nearly similar case, he elegizes the Marchioness of Winchester! "So have I seen some tender slip, Sav'd with care from winter's nip, The pride of her carnation train, Pluck'd up by some unheedy swain, Who only thought to crop the flower, New shot up from vernal shower." "The Five Oaks of Dallwitz" is translated with freedom and grace, and partakes, even in its transfusion, of the characteristic bold romance of Körner's muse. We are not quite satisfied, however, with the expression "Bright records of a better day," as applied to the oaks; nor is there any authority for the epithet in the original line "Alte Zeiten alte treue Zeugen." Bright is an adjective properly applicable neither to oaks nor records, as its substantive. We fancy that in using this word the author intended to convey the clearness of the testimony; but it is done awkwardly, at least, if not incorrectly. As we are in a carping mood, we would here give expression to our wish that the book before us had been shorter by two pages. We could gladly have continued to recline under the peaceful shade of the "Five Oaks," without having our reverie interrupted by the howling and hooting of the animals let loose upon us in the "Nursery Rhymes," which immediately follow. We much fear that whatever custom may have sanctioned in the land of Goethe and Retsch, as applicable to the education or amusement of the wunder-kinder of the fatherland, our "march of intellect" nurseries would repel with phrenologic horror such primitive monstrosities as these. They teem with horrors such as would be refused admittance into any of those duodecimos, in which, under the name of "libraries," are comprised all legitimate knowledge for youth; and as they would be thus legally excluded from the region of governesses and go-carts above, so they would scarcely gain a welcome in the more adult and less castigated collection below. Seriously, the lines are unfit for children, and thus lose their principal claim upon our notice. With such objections, which, slight as they are, are all we can make, we take our leave of Dr. Anster's volume. We thought it our duty both to him and to the public, to speak sincerely, both in praise and blame. Our commendations are heart-felt, and our criticism, even where it appears condemnatory, is kindly meant, the author may be assured. We hail with gratitude the gift of a little work like this to our studies and boudoirs, filled as they generally are with the outpourings of the London press. In the language we have already used, (see our last number,) we are beginning "to collect our scattered forces," and to concentrate here a literature and a communicating medium of our own. Could we but ensure such contributions as these, we might look to vying with the "modern Athens" at no very distant period. It should be the object of the thinking portion of the public, the gentry, the aristocracy, the talent of the land, to confirm and strengthen what has begun under such happy auspices. Let them be assured, that the domestication of intellect will tend more than they are aware to unite us to our fellow-countrymen at the other side of the channel, and to render those fellow-countrymen desirous of more intimate union with us. It will tend in no small degree, we are confident, to smooth the turbulence of faction, thus to cast taste and refinement like oil upon the waters. We have a natural jealousy of receiving our intellectual aliment from hands not native. We seize with avidity and pride what we know to be indigenous. Let us hope that the patriotic example of Dr. Anster will be followed by all Irish aspirants to literary fame; and that Xeniola will but be one of the earliest of a series of popular productions, emanating from the head and heart of our countrymen, and given publicity through the Irish press. A GLANCE AT POLITICAL AFFAIRS.. BY TERENCE O'RUARK, A.M. If there were any touch of virtue, or trace of magnanimity in the conduct of the Melbourne administration, one could hardly help being moved to some degree of pity at its present abject condition-our indignation at its crimes might give way, in some measure at least, to our commiseration of its wretchedness. But there is nothing in this administration with which any feeling of respect or sympathy can possibly be associated. Our abhorrence of its mischief, is inevitably combined with disgust at its meanness. Administrations, like individuals, may be great even in their crimes-with a satanic spirit, there may be satanic strength, but this administration is as paltry, as it is pernicious. The enormous evil which it produces, is not by the exertion of power, but through the abandonment of duty. Even while we behold the coming destruction, which, through the agency of these ministers, has been allowed to begin its frightful progress, we feel that there is nothing for great men to grapple with. We cannot fight with truckling and with treachery. The present administration is a foe, in the neglect of which there is ruin, but in the conflict with which there is no glory. Thus the whole character of public affairs is degraded, and the honest politician is obliged to descend from the dignity of a soldier of the state to the condition of a constitutional constable-a watcher of faithless servants, who open the doors to robbers, for the sake of sharing the spoil. To describe the ministers of the present day adequately, we must borrow the language of a more eloquent period we must take the liberty of applying to the body of which this administration is composed, the language used by an "illustrious Irishman," respecting an individual. "In their mind, all is shuffling, ambiguous, dark, insidious, and little; nothing simple, nothing unmixed, all affected plainness, and actual dissimulation. A heterogenous mass of contradictory qualities, with nothing great but their crimes, and even those contrasted by the littleness of their motives, which at once denote both their baseness and their meanness, and mark them for traitors and speeches, there is the same mixture of tricksters. Nay, in the style of their vicious contrarieties. The most grovelflated language, giving mock consequence ling ideas, they convey in the most into low cavils, and uttering quibbles in heroics, so that their compositions disgust the mind's taste, as much as their actions excite the soul's abhorrence." These words fairly describe the Melbourne administration-the administration which Mr. O'Connell sneeringly compliments, upon its disposition to do justice to Ireland. Certainly no one knows its disposition better. He made the discovery at Lichfield House. Its talents he had known long before, and gave the world the benefit of his knowledge, in his celebrated epistles of October, 1834, to Lord Duncannon. Mr. O'Connell very accurately estimates the qualities of the administration, and uses it accordingly. But be ministers what they may, they have their reward. If they pocket the public money, they crouch under public contempt. If they enjoy the wages of perfidy, they also endure the suffering of sin. If any man supposes that, though despicable, they do not feel that they are so, let him walk into the Houses of Lords and Commons, and behold them there. He cannot be deceived; he will see degradation too palpable to be overlooked even by the pomposity and preposterous self-esteem of Whig-Radical ministers. He will see ministers of State cowering beneath the lash of Mr. Roebuck's petulant and flippant volubility, and Under Secretaries humbly addressing themselves to the level of Mr. Hume's honesty, capacity, and forbearance. Is it in mortal man to do this without feeling it? The malignity of the human disposition is generally in proportion to its meanness, and can we suppose that such men as these ministers, do not writhe with inward rage, while endeavouring to avert the dull growl of the arithmetical member for Middlesex, or bearing, in silence, the sharp invectives of the republican member for Bath? Most assuredly they would express their resentment if they dared; but these members, if their antagonists one day, will be their supporters the next. Ministers must not offend those by whose aid they live. The republican phalanx must not be affronted, because the King's ministers, though carrying on monarchy to-day, and, therefore, supported by the Conservatives, will be engaged in work tomorrow, which Conservatives will oppose, and which Republicans can support without violating their principles. Conservatives, as the ministers know, will not desert their principles upon party or personal grounds, and therefore, these magnanimous mi. nisters feel it safe to insult them. They are still sure of their support against the enemies of the Church and the Throne. But the republicans they are not so sure of, and them, there fore, they do not dare to offend, even when their attitude is the most adverse. Nor is it, I think, conceivable, that any convenient cloud of self-conceit should so entirely shut out a view of the public sentiment from these ministers, as to free them from the sting of that contempt of their measures and them selves, with which public sentiment is imbued. Does any one deny that this is true? Let him consider for a moment what source there is of public sentiment in which this contempt may not be traced. It is true that in some public journals, and at some public meetings, certain measures of ministers are applauded. But examine a little farther-look into the ground of that applause, and you will see how certainly contempt is associated with it, and how likely the applause is to be merely politic, while the contempt is genuine and personal. The republican Dissenters, and the political Romanists, for example, applaud ministerial measures, when they are favorable to republicanism, and hostile to the Established Church. They applaud ministers, when ministers act as their tools. This they may do without having any respect for ministers, and whenever ministers cease to be their tools, the real nature of the applause and the support which they have received from Republicans is soon made manifest. Consider the gracious opening of Mr. Roebuck's speech on Canadian affairs-a speech to which no minister attempted a reply. “A few nights since," said he "A few nights since, in the very place I now stand, I found myself advocating, in conjunction with his Majesty's ministers, justice to Ireland. I did so, and I would fain have hoped that they did so not in obedience to any pressing exigency -not for the sake of present expediencybut in accordance with great, lasting, and universal principles of legislation_with those principles which teach us that if we desire the people to be well governed, we must allow them to govern themselves. This hope, however, has been raised only to be disappointed a week has not passed before my illusion has been destroyed, and I am compelled to see that we in' vain desire such conduct from men in office amongst us, for they have neither the capacity nor the courage to be con sistent." Here is the opinion of the radicals. How much, then, is their applause worth to the ministers, in the estimation of those who intelligently judge? That for which they are applauded is, it seems, the practical promotion of the principle of self-government, or, in other words, the principle_that_the people shall govern the people. With profound deference to that most impetuous radical philosopher, Mr. Roebuck, I take leave to declare my opi |