The Athenian. (Athens, Ga.) 1827-1832, November 23, 1827, Image 4

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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