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mam
POBTET.
From the Philadelphia Monthly Magazine.
THE VOICE OF WINTER.
1 come—my breath is on the blast!
A wreath of clouds is o’er me.
And the loveliest flowers of earth, as I past,
Have withered and slirunk before me.
I have found the earth in its richest bloom,
% come to gather its pride to the tomb;
X have found it all with joy elate,
I come to make it desolate.
The leaves of the trees are rustling and gey,
The sheen of the river is bright as the spring;
I will blow those rustling leaves away,
I will stop the streamlet’s murmuring:
I will strip of its robe the towering oak,
Ita root shall be torn, and its limbs be broke;
1 will howl through the waste, and the wild beasts
there, ' 4 ,‘ ■
At the sound of my voice shall shrink to their lair.
The eagle shall close her soaring wing,
And seek hor nest on the eyrie high;
And every songster cease to sing,
At the sound of my ominous rushing by !
| will blow to the dust the gayest flowers,
‘ And strip of their pride the fairest bowers j
• wilt clothe the earth in white as I come:
'winding-sheet of her wintry tomb!
.BALLAD. BY MISS LANDON.
o not forth to night, my child,
O m,t forth to-njght;
The raj beats'down, the rind is wild,
And nfel^star Has light.”
“The rain^t will but ‘wash iny plume,
The wmd\but,wave it dry j
And for such q««t as mine, mirk gloom
Is welcome in Jthe sky.
And little will \ke warder know
What Ktep is /gliding near;
One only eye will watch below,
One only ear will hear.
A hundred men i keep watch and ward,
But what is t/uat to me;
And when 1 ttftb ever Love been barred
From wli'Me he wills to be ?
Go, mother/with thy maiden band,
And makVs the chamber bright;
The Iovriidt maiden in the land
Will l>c Mhv guest to-night.”
He flung IrinXon his ravfcn steed—
He spurred at o’er the'plain :
The bird, the aY row have such speed :—
His mother call’d in vain.
■“His swonj.4* sharp, his steed is fleet,—
Stt. Maine be his guide;
And PH/to make a welcome meet
. For hnj[ young, stranger-bride.”
And Jj/m the waxen tapers threw
or fragrance on the air, ,
, dowers of every morning hue
Yielded their sweet lives there.
Around the walls an eastern loom ?
-• Had hung its purple fold—
A hundred lamps lit up the room,'
And every lamp was gold.
A horn is heard, the drawbridge falls—
“ Oh, welcome! ’tis my son!”
A cry of joy rang through the halls—
“ And bis fair bride is won.”
But that fair face is very pale,
Too pale to suit a bride ;
Ah! blood is on her silvery veil!—
That blood flows from her side.
Upon the silken couch he laid
The maiden's drooping head ;
The flowers before the bride to fade,
Were scatter’d o’er the dead.
He knelt by her the livelong night,
And only once spoke he—
“ Ob, when the shaft was on its flight
Why did it not pierce me ?”
He built a chapel where she slept,
For prayer and holy strain:
One midnight by the grave he wept,
He never saw again.
Without a name, without a crest,
He sought the Holy Land:
St. Marie give his soul good rest—
He died there sword in hand.
9W— J -I.
RECOLLECTIONS OF MATUR1N.
It was not until after his marriage, and
his translation to the parish of St. Peter’s
in Dublin, that Maturin became an au
thor. His being a clergyman induced him
to publish his early works anonymously,
as they were not of that class which the
evangelical critics of Dublin would have
deemed strictly professional. The objec
tions raised to the levity of his produc
tions were answered by the situation in
which he was placed, with a narrow in
come and hopeless prospects. It must be
admitted that other and less objectionable
modes of literary exertion were open to him,
but there were none so easy of access, and
so quickly profitable, as that which he em
braced. For the sake of the objects which
forced him to look a little beyond his profes
sion, he was obliged to be popular in the
form and matter of his writings; and it must
be confessed, his own inclination never re
belled against that obligation. In those
works which he published before he avowed
his name, there are many proofs that he felt
he was writing.iriesponsibly. His first two
or three romances bear traces of careless
ness, where, perhaps, youthful impatience
would not permit him to polish, in other
places, there are formalities as of over care;
but still these works are evidences of a
young and ardent mind, considerable genius,
and inexhaustible fancy. His first publica
tion was “The Family of Montorio, or the
Fatal Revenge,*’ a romance replete with
horrors, with an occasional dash of meta-
physics and delineation of human character.
In his preface'trefcrtqiB&ks Indulgence:—;
“ If youth, unacquatniimce with hteraiy ha
bits, and the ‘ original sin’ of national dull
ness, be any mitigation of severity, critical
or or of the cold and bitter blasts of\
let this serve to inform myrea-
strictly?fulfilled. Improved as'tacrjStijSlic’6
ion has been within the last fifteen years on
matters of fictiort, it is difficult lo speak can
didly or justly of a work, written when other
and very difficult styles were the fashion;
but if we consider the taste of the day, the
youth of tlKi author, and admit some quali
fying allowances for his constitutional en
thusiasm, the romance of Montorio may he
accepted as a diagnostic of that disease of
the imagination which produced his system
of beauty and extravagance. “ Montorio”
belongs to the school of Mrs. Radcliffe. It
has all tiie faults, and many of the beanies
of its class : yet it presents bnt a feeble im
age of “ Udolpjio,” and “ The Italians.”
The language is extravagant; the descrip
tions luxuriant to wildness, and the delinea
tions of human feeling a kind of revel in
the sympathies of nature. But the greatest
imperfection in the work is, that it does not
clearly satisfy its own design in explaining
the mysterious occurrences it describes,
and leaves the reader at the close poised
between the possible and the unreal.
In this work there are touches of that
mode of feeling and thought which more pe
culiarly distinguish the writings of Mr.
Wordsworth, without that dilution of words
that weakens and deluges the sense. Of
such passages the following lines may af
ford an indistinct illustration :—
‘ I listened to the tide, whose lambent
ripplings I felt as well as heard, breathing
tranquillity.’
* By my immortal soul, if I hut see you
falter, wince, or think awry, (for 1 shall see
your very thoughts.) that moment, &c.’
Ordinarily considered, it is extravagant
to talk of feeling the ripplings of, the tide
breathing tranquillity, or of seeing* a man
aicry : but the poetical mind will perceive
no difficulty in eutering into that sensibility
to which these expressions act as exponents.
The public have become more familiar with
similar expressions of feeling sjnee the pub
lication of Montorio in 1804, and its novel
ty has now scarcely any claim upon atten
tion : yet it may he but justice to the me
mory of Maturin to observe, that the vein of
hyperbole, produced by excessive feeling
which pervades his writings, has at least the
merit of springing from the original confor
mation of his own mind and not from a de
sire to imitate the eccentricities of any living
writers.
I believe it was the Romance of Monto
rio that obtained for Maturin that friendship
which he always considered one of the high
est rewards of his literary labours, and of
which I have heard him speak in terms of
pride—the friendship of Sir Walter Scott.
From that period he kept up a correspon
dence? with the author of Waverly.—
In the close of the summer of 1825, Sir
Walter Scott visited Ireland, but Maturin
was then no more. Had he lived, he would
have been the companion of the poet’s tour,
and might have invoked the novelist of
Scotland to impart the incalesccnce of his
spirit to the forgotten legends anj tradition-
rav romance of Ireland; to have re-peopled
her solitude with the beings of old: to have
recalled her clans and her chiefs, and to
have redeemed from oblivion the annals of
her truly tragic history. But the anticipa
tions created by that visit have been disap
pointed, and Sir Walter has found’better ac
count in the developement of the wild and
beautiful recollections of his own chroni
cles. He visited the widow_and family of
Maturin in Dublin, and paid to his memory
the gratifying tribute of personal- respect.
“ Montorio ” was followed by “ The
Wild Irish Boy,” a work replete with orien
talism, of style, and exhibiting great exu
berance of fancy r riiingling the wildest sce
nery of romance with much of the terrific
interest of real life; and affording splendid
delineations of passion and pleasure. The
circumstances under which the work was
written, palliate many of its defects: he lpid
not alone to fulfil the arduous duties of hfS
ministry in a populous and extensive parish,
but his scanty means obliged him to take
several pupils into his house to read the pre
paratory course for college. Thus, with
his time anxiously and irksomely occupied,
necessity created leisure, and amidst “the
difficulties of his situation, He produced fic
tions that, with all their Faults, have been
rarely equalled in power of narrative and
passionate declamation.
Bat of his native country, in
a manner commensurate with his learning
gnd splendid talents. /In 1802-3, he became
the projector and Editor of the Edinburgh
Review which has since been so widely cir
culated, and so justly praised for the elo
quence, learning, vivacity, and terseness of
the articles it contained. He is considered,
as a Criminal lawyer, or at the Bar of the
Criminal Court, as unrivalled, and though
his pronunciation is very defective being a
mixture of Province English and undigni
fied Scotch, his elocution is so overpower
ing and rapid—his illustrations so happy—
his masses of thought so successive, and
flashes of mind so hrilHant and dazzling that
all who listen are delighted, and look upon
him as one of the most gifted of speakers.
There is such a playfulness in his .vit, such
richness ia his imagination, and such choice
and beauty in his expression?, and such
depth and force and energy in his reasoning,
that no one can hear him without admira
tion and delight. Mr. Jeffrey is said, how
ever, to be deficient in that faculty or power
so essential to an orator, of exciting the sym
pathy, or rousing the indignation of his hear
ers, and may therefore he considered as
more of a rhetorician than an orator. But
though “ the magic he wields (says a coun
tryman of his) if not of the high cast makes
the subject of its working the conscious, yet
willing, slave of the sorcerer. His is a more
common, but quite as effectual a species pf
tempting. He flatters the vanity of men,
by making them believe that the best proof
of their own superiority will be their coming
to. the conclusion which he has proposed ;
and they submit with servile stupidity* at
the very moment they are pluming thenv-
selveson displaying the boldness and inde
pendence of adventurous intellect.”
Vs a critic, Mr. Jeffrey’s merits are equal
ly prominent. He has struck out an ori
ginal mode of reviewing, which pleased at
first by its novelty, and which has, for many
years, continued to please by the talent, in
telligence and power, it displayed. There
is, in his reviews, perhaps less of fine taste
than apparent bitterness of feeling, or keen
and mordaunt sarcasm—less of classical
beauty than of general learning. Its object
<eems to be to rqnder the author reviewed
ludicrous and contemptible, rather than to
diffuse truth or to produce new light. His
reviews partake more of the character of
oulitical and literary dissertations than ab
ol.ute criticism, and the dictatorial air of
superiority which he assumes—the terse
ness and poignancy of his remarks—the
ease .and fluency of his style, and the non
chalance and sangfroid with which he dis
sects his victim, have conspired to give his
articles a zest and influence which every
reader of them must have felt and enjoyed.
Mr. Jeffrey is ofa low stature,with a face
small and swarthy, but full of vivacity. His
features are neither handsome nor other
wise—his forehead forms the segment of a
circle—his hair is black~and wiry, his eye
sparkling and animated, and his. mouth ex
pressive of great firmness and influence of
mind.”
No man, who has ever lived, has been
more sincerely dreaded, beloved, hated and
despised, than Jeffrey. ‘ He' has, through
his unsparing criticism, sent to the shades
of oblivion, many a promising son of genius
who but for the gall and severity of Jeffrey’s
pen, might have have added fresh honors to
the cause of literature. But Jeffrey is al
ways unsparing, whpre his prejudices are
enkindled, and his opinion, once unfavoura
bly formed, relative to an author, no suppli
cation, no proof of his worth and talent, can
divert the malignity of his spleen. Although
Jeffrey is unsparing in his criticisms on oth
ers, no man is so restive as he is, when his
productions are assailed, and no man bears
with such entire absence of self-complacen
cy the criticisms of cotemporaries, as the
Editor of the Edinburg Review. In his
criticisms, he has always seemed anxious to
condemn, and more willing to censure than
appl aud—to seek for all the foibles of an au
thor—and to disregard his merits. His
writings, though they may be, and are, rats
bane to the coterie of authors, they afford
fine food for the general reader, and those
who are fond of the sarcastic and severe.
he related. He,however, by dint of threats j coming hut upon us every day, which we
and entreatifes,'obtained of the Capt. two • call newspapers—though they are really a
thousand dollars, which was supposed not to i good deal more. For what are they, ia fact,
have been a bare tythe of the original value. j but “ maps of busy life ?”—or reports, you
Tardy, findinghjm?elf suddenly reduced may call ihcrft, dally and hourly ones, of all
from a state of affluence to indigent cireum-1 that is going on in the world about us. They
stances, desitute of the means of gaining a I are indeed perfect mirrors of the present,
livelihood, and without friends or a home,; showing .more truly than the stage) ** the
resolved to resort to means for obtaining i body of the tune, his form and pressure.”
property, similar to those that had been so And they are telescopes of the distant—and
successfully practised upon himself , and almost of the future, giving us some! shadowy
from what is known of him since that time, j glimpses of things to come hereafter. Tney
he appears to have kept that resolution in : are in truth, as it were, the very leaves of
strict observance. The event is, he has
died by his own hand, and left behind the
character of a demon.
The American Captain has lived and died
with his own family, and many are willing to
bestow an him the title of a gentleman.
These facts are gathered from those who
were acquainted with the transaction, and
from the corresponding statements made hy
Tardy to Mr. Dobson, (the mate of the
Crawford,) and lo another gentleman, with
whom the writer of this article has conver
sed. -■ *-
I shall not pretend to say that Tardy
was not a first rate villain ; but this enquiry
presents itself. If Tardy had not been
swindled out of his property, is it probable
that our feelings would have been shocked
with the catalogue of crime in which he has
been the prime mover? I answer without
hesitation, No! and if so, he who commits
a fraud can form no idea of its ultimate* re
sult, ov of the degree of punishment which
strict justice would attach to the crime.”—
Col. Rep.
Caution.—A Southern paper admonishes
the public tc be on their guard against two
suspicious persons named Brandy and Whis
key, who are now prowling about the coun
try maltreating and destroying a great num
ber ofpeople. It is said that they mean to
reside for some time in this city. They have
been pointed out to us in company with a
third ruffian who calls himself Rum. Whis
key is a foreigner. He has lived several
years in Scotland, and is well known in Ire
land. where he passed himself off under the
assumed names'of Fanntosh and Potyean.
Since his emigration to this country, he resi
ded a long while at Monongahela. He is
now a regularly naturalized citizen, and may
be met with at all hours of the day or night in
the hotels and streets of Now York. He is
a mean looking, yellow faced-fellow, who
generally mixes himself up with persons of
very opposite characters. We have seen
him arm-and-arm with Messrs. Sugar and
Lemon. When so supported, he always get
into hot water, and is very quarrelsome. All
three of them go into the streets punching
every body they meet, staggering some and
knocking down others. No better evidence
can be given of the effects of “ evil commu
nication’,’ than this, for Sugar and Lemon,
when out of Whiskey’s influence, are very
respectable and harmless people. Sugar is
particularly sweet tempered, but when whis
key gets hold ofh’m all his sweetness melts
away. The habits of Whiskey are all low,
the sybil—to those who can read iheir curi
ous characters with skill. Then they are
so various—they have something for e\ery
taste. Young and old rich and poor, wise
and otherwise, .all may find something; to
suit them in their different columns. No
wonder that they are so popular. No won
der that so many in town and country stand
waiting and wishing for them, and ail ready
to clutch them as they come. And how
many indeed look up to them as for their
manna, their corn of Heaven, on which they
are to live from day to day ! And how many
honest souls are there who verily think that
they are bound to believe all, or almost all,
that they see in their types! It is easy to
see then, what means of popular improve
ment they are, and how much better they
ought to be. And all qf us, I think, must
wish that our editors might he all honest and
intelligent, lovers of good more than of gain,
the friends, and not the parasites of the peo
ple.
Jl Welsh Invitation.—Mr. Walter Nor
ton, Mrs. Walter Norton, and Miss Sandys
compliments to Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs.
Charles Morgan, Misa Charles Morgan, and
the governess whose name Mr. Walter Nor
ton, Mrs. Walter Norton, and Miss Sandys
d© not recollect, an^Mr. Walter N orton, Mrs.
Walter Nortm, and Miss Sandys request
the favor of the company of Mr. Charles
Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, and Miss
Charles Morgan, aud the governess whose
name Mr. Walter Norton, Mrs. Walter
Norton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect,
to dinner on Monday week, next. Mr.
Walter Norton, Mrs. Walter Norton, and
Miss Sandys beg to inform Mr. Charles
Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, and Miss
Charles Morgan, and the governess whose
name Mr. Walter Norton, Mrs. Walter
Norton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect,
that Mr. Walter Norton, Mrs. Walter-Nor
ton, and Miss Sandys can accommodate Mr.
Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan,and
Miss Charles Morgan, and the governess
whose name Mr. Walter Norton, Mrs Wal
ter Norton, and Miss Sandys do not recol
lect, with beds, if remaining the night be
agreeable to Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs.
Charles Morgan, and Miss Charles Mor
gan. and the governess whose name Mr.
Walter Norton, Mrs. Walter Norton, and
Miss Sandys do not recollect.—Llandillon
Castle.—Country Paper.
FRANCIS JEFFREY, Esq.
Of this man the w*orld has known much
and the American public have felt the se
verity of his pen. Having held a most con
spicuous station in the eye of the world and
having been at once the terror and delight
of men of literature, a sketch of his history
may be acceptable to our readers; ami the
following, presented to them may be const
dered correct; '
“ This distinguished critic is a native of
Edinburgh, and the son of one of the Depu
ty Clerks of Session in Scotland.—He was
born-on the 23d of October, 1773 and was
educated partly at the University of Glas
gow, anil partly at Oxford. After complet
ing his educatiop, he was called lo the Bar
in 1795. In 1801, Mr. Jeffrey married Miss
C. Wilson, daughter of the Professor of
Chureh History in the University of St.
Andrews; apd after her death, married
Miss Charlotte Wilkes, of New York, the
niece of the celebrated John Wilkes, and
has had by her tfrie, child. He was an ac-
tiye member ^f the Debating Societies of
Edinburgh, in which he amused and approv
ed himself for many years. Of one uf.tt^|se,
that 1 never jc Jled the Speculative Society, he wap
and I am member in conjunction with Brougham,
Horner, Murray,, and others.
Montorio,
tiro of his
founded
is
Mr.Je
his mind,
a long tin
was not
notwithstanding the]
»js reputation as a
Tardy the Pirate.—A Correspondent of
the Fall river Monitor furnishes the follow
ing sketches of this early history of Tardy.
“The notorious Alexander Tardy was
one of those unfortunate personswho have
inhabited the Island of Hispaniola, and when
compelled to leave the place during the con
vulsions which that i 11-fa'edvisland has ex
perienced. Finding hee&uld no longer re
main there in safety, he agreed with the
Captain of an American vessel to take him
self, and such of his property astcould be re
moved to the U. States—and as it was not
thought prudent for Tardy to be on board
at the time of sailing, he was to leave the
harbor in a bout, the vessel'was to, sail im
mediately, apd. take him on board at the
mouth of the harbor. Every thing beipg in
readiness, Tardy procured a boat and two
negroes, and got to sea; the vessel sailed
according to agreement; Tardy saw her ;
rowed for her, waved his hat and hailed her;
but the Captain, (perhaps at that time, not
understanding French,) paid him no atten
tion—bpt proceeded on and arrived in the
U. States.
He had made's great voyage; and from
limited circumstances, had become thus ‘
nal.
The Silent Woman.—Madame Reguier,
the wife of a law officer at Versailles, while
and though some of them keep up a secret j talking in the presence of a numerous party,
intercourse with him, yet he is not publicly ! dropped some remarks, which were out of
recognized by the members of “ Good So-! place, though not verp important. ' Her
ciety.” Monsieur Brandy, on the other! husband reprimanded her. before the whole
hand, is more genteel, and may occasionally j company, saying, “ Silence, Madam, you
be encountered at the tables of persons of are a fool!” She lived 20 or 30 years after-
condition. He sat opposite to us yesterday, ■ Wards, and never uttered a word, even to her
and behaved very becomingly, probably be- j children. A pretended theft was committed
cause the company took scarcely any notice ! in her presence, in the hope of taking her
of him. "His complexion is ruddy and high . by surprise, but without effect, and nothing
coloured, and his general manner spirited \ could induce her to speak. When her con-
and agreeable.—In matters of taste he is re- j sen t was requisite for the marriage of any of
markable for smartness and piquancy. Bran- j her children, she bowed her head and sign-
dy is a Frenchman by birth, and belongs to j ed the contract.-—Madam Compan’s Jour-
the ancient family of De Cogniac. It is to
be lamented that a person with such gentle
manly capacities should ever mingle with
people of such bad odour as Whiskey and
Rum. This Rum is a decided ruffian.
His very looks condemn him. His face is
of a dark sallow hue, and from the unplea
sant effluvia which proceed from him, we
suspect he is sadly unclean in his habits,and
has an antipathy to water, and yet he is a
monstrous coxcomb, and is always admiring
his own appearance in a glass. Fortunately
he seldom intrudes into the company of
gens il faut. He delights to linger about
pot-houses and ship yards, and to blow it out
with daily labourers and sailors. It is
shrewdly conjectured that he is fond of drink,
for he may be generally met with about
“ grog time.” Rum is manifestly of West
India origin. The principal seat of Hhe fa
mily is on the plantations of Jamaica, al
though some of the illegitimate branches
have resided fqr several years in New Eng
land, where their influence is most unfavor
able to the proverbial “ steady hahits” of the
country. The individual who is now in
New York, is from the West Indies. He
is called by those who know him “ Old Ja
maica,” to distinguish him from his New
England kinsman.
From these descriptions our readers may
be able to discover and avoid these suspi
cious characters. All connection with them
is disreputable, and great injury to health,
purse aud fame, must attend the slightest
intimacy.
Mem. These vagabonds are not to be
confounded with an elegant and accomplish
ed Frenchman, who has taken up his resi-
at sea, when he
n of war, treat-
turn to land, wax three
was taken up by a B
ed kindly, and lande
Wards came to the U:
foijiis property; &
raatefheisgat that timaJjles: sdff"with short
memories,) protended to have no recolle
tion of him; or of tho circumstances which
The following singular advertisement is
taken from an English paper.—“ Wanted, for
a sober family, a man of light weight, who
fears the Lord, and can drive a pair of hor
ses.—He must occasionally wait at table,
join in household prayer, look after the hor
ses, and read a chapter in the Bible. He,
must, God willing, rise at seven in the morn
ing, obey his master and mistress in all law
ful commands. If he can dress hair, sin*
psalms, and play at cribbage, the mere a-
grecable. N. B. he must not be too familiar
with the maidservant of the house, lest the
flesh should rebel against the spirit, and he
should be induced to walk in the thorny path
of the wicked. Wages 15 guineas a year
JV*. Y. Enquirer. •
Matrimonial Consolation.—A. younger
brother had espoused an old and ill-temper
ed wife, but extremely rich. He used to say
—“ whenever I find my temper giving way,
I retire to my closet, and console myself by
reading her marriage settlement.!’
A Gascon Bed.-—A Gascon officer, hear
ing some one celebrating the exploits of a
prince who, in two assaults upon a town,
had killed six men .with his own hand:
“ Bah !” said he, “ I would have you know,
jjhat the mattresses I sleep upon arc stuffed
vrith nothing else but the whiskers of those
whom I have sent to slumber in tho other
world.” i-: V
Stock Jobbing Pigeon.—The following
appears in a Dutch paper, under the date of
dertce in, this city.—It is not permitted us to J Rottcfdam, July 3Q—Pigeons seem to Be
mention his name, hut his card of address is j employed more than ever for the sake of
become thu$ “ L. C. , from ChampagneWe ! rapid communication. To-day a pigeon
suddenly rich. Tardy, not daring to re- have dined very frequently in company with j alighfedou the roofof a house in this city,
At ~ * * “ ' Mhis tasteful stranger, and found hiin sur- j which had under its winga note from Lon-
ingly agreeable, sparkling qnd delieious.: don, with the Course of Exchange, and
appearance is favor, and 1 to have l>ee ® intended for Am
conversation most' eloquent, fresh and | sterifeill The pigeon .was marked 3S0.
A man of hrij
indiscretions