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translators of the Greek tragedies have turned their chorusses, would really seem, in our present ignorance of ancient music, to be a gratuitous trouble. It is by far the most probable supposition, that the chorus was performed in a manner resembling our recitative; and, for this, lyrical regularity is quite unnecessary.--I am, &c.

T. D. P. S.-I must beg to echo Mr O'Fogarty's pathetic remonstrance on the subject of incorrect printing. In verse it is absolutely excruciating; and I have more than once yearned for an opportunity of giving your compositor a practical exposition of the

“ Cynthius aurem Vellit et admonuit


You will tell us, that there are blunders in MS, as well as in print; and I believe, after all, you have your own troubles.



The Chorus laments the Pestilence which afflicted Thebes.


Offspring of ancient Cadmus, gen'rous race,
Your destinies have seen their end; ye die.
A tongueless desert shall your city lie
A godless temple-a forsaken place.
-Behold! a fate, no martial glories grace,
Strikes down thy soldiers, Bacchus, erst who bore
Thine all-victorious standard India o'er-
Who dared those eastern trackless sands o'er-run-
There, where the race of man was said to spring,
When Earth was young, and Time first spread his winga
And stretch'd thine empire to the rising sun-
They wav'd thy banner in those scented groves
Where the blest Arab roves,
And plucks the endless gifts that Nature gave;
Nor did they shun
The wheeling Parthian, whose deceptive string
Can e'en in flight the treach'rous arrow wing,
Till from that Indian strand they did behold,
At last, their Phoebus rising from the wave,
And saw the blue of ocean blush in gold.


Sons of a yet unconquer'd race, we die ;
The rising glories of our state are gone;
Exulting Death a novel pomp puts on.-
Lo! in an endless line the spirits go
To seek their homes below;
And scarce suffice the gates that open

To let the slaughter through.
Yea, thy seven gates, 0 Thebes ! are all too few
To serve for those that fall, and serve for those that dy!

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But e'er the patient neck had felt the knife,
Th' offended Pow’rs had snatch'd the proffer'd life,
And, whilst the arm was rais'd, the victim died;
Or, if the knife was driven, beneath the stroke,
From forth the veins black, tainted torrents broke.--
The bounding horse,
E'en in the midst of his exulting course,
Beneath his rider dropp'd-and sunk in all his pride.

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Our voice of lamentation hath gone deep,
But hath not risen to heaven ;
For lo ! the darksome womb of night is riv'n,
And all her snake-hair's daughters
Do watch, and wave their torches o'er our sleep.
Yea, Phlegethon's red stream hath bubbled up
And mingled in our cup,
And tainted all the clear Sidonian waters.
Death opes his greedy jaws, and flaps his pinions ;
Nor can that squalid spectre who is said
To waft the disembodied spirits o'er,
Ply half his horrible trade;
Such throngs are shivering on that ghastly shore,
Such crowds are hurrying to those dark dominions.
There are who will relate,
That the abortive monster whom earth fears
Th’ unshapeliest shape of hell-deform'd and foul,
Hath passed unchain'd through the forbidden gate,
And now the terror-stricken midnight hears
His triple yell in the Cadmean groves;
The mountains shudder, and the fixed earth moves;
Gigantic forms of stature and of might,
Such as upon this earth have never stood,
Are seen--and the Dircean fount runs blood,
And ever, through the silent hours of night,
The Amphionian dogs are heard to howl.


Oh! strange approach of death!
A languor unrefreshing, but more deep

E'en than the marble sleep,
Weighs down, and scarce permits the lab'ring breath.
They hang upon the altars, and they lie
Prostrate, in heaps, upon the temple’s floor,
Too weak, almost, to lift their hands on high,
To know, almost too miserable, why
And what they would implore ;
To death almost too near-to ask to die.
Of all the aspirations offer'd there,
Unpitying Heaven will grant that single prayer ;
It seems as if the sacred fanes they trod,
Not as a stay, or refuge from despair,
But to provoke their doom, and satiate the God.


Hercules Furens. Act III.
He asks pardon of the Gods for dragging Cerberus from the Infernal Regions.

Ruler of light,--the ornament and pride,
Of Heav'n—who dost illurpe each hemisphere
With thy flame-laden chariot, bearing joy
Alternately to nations, as they view
Thy bright locks, streaming gladness,-- pardon me
Phoebus, that I have dragg d before thy face
This horrible secret of the nether world,
And—most unwillingly-defiled the light
With which I yet am bless'd. Thou too, sole Parent,
And arbiter of all — Jove, wrap thy brows
In unapproachable fires :-with veiling lightnings
Protect thy sacred eyes. And thou too, King,
Of ever-restless waters, shroud thyself
In depths where no ray comes.

O ! Sacrilege,
That the untainted spirits, who look down
From yon far blue, upon this earthly world,
Must now, with loathing, turn away.


And gaze above-as if to seek a heav'n
More purely inaccessible than theirs.
No being brooks this deed, save only two,
The doer and the causer. Yet what crime
Of mine remain’d inexpiate, that the earth
Could not find chastening for -; that Juno's ire
Should banish me where foot hath never trod,
Nor ever light of heav'n met living eye,
But all is gloomy as the awful King,
To whom Jove left that dim domain ?

It recks not.
Had such dark lust of empire stol’n upon me,
I had usurp'd his kingdom I have fronted
And pierc'à that chaos of eternal night-
That horror worse than night. Those dismal Pow'rs,
Yea, even Fate I have o'ercome, and, closing
With Death himself, have firmly clasp'd him round,
And laid him prostrate-who ne'er fell before.

What more remains?-If to have seiz'd and brought
This living Monster of the grave, and set him,
E'en face to face-here-with the shrinking sun,
Be not enough-nor yet my

labours cease,
Say, Juno, what adventure still is left
For Hercules ?



You will, I doubt not, be surprised, supply, and replenish ; and bring me and probably not a little affected, to a pipe, and let me hear what you have learn that Microsophus, whose cha- got to say about the roup.” racter and manners, as described in a

During my loquacious host's ablate Number of your Miscellany, have sence, I employed myself in making attracted such general attention, has, reflections, natural, but trite enough, since that paper was published, paid on the shortness of life, and the unthe debt of nature. I learned this certainty of human affairs. Here was event accidentally, a few weeks ago, a friend whom I had long known, and as I was on my way to Edinburgh' by whom I had been much respected ; from the south.

a companion with whom I had often Happening, towards the dusk of the climbed the brae in search of plants evening, to arrive at the principal inn angled in the burn for trout-and, in at Saltchurch, within a short distance spite of Peter Pindar, chased the but. from which the residence of my friend, terfly-cut off in the flower of his age, the virtuoso, is situated, I, according before he could complete that museum, to my usual custom, when I want to form which had been his highcompany on the road, invited mine est ambition-without a descendant to host to take a jug of toddy with me, inherit and increase the intellectual that I might learn the news of the treasures he had heaped together, and country-side. My landlord” readily now these very treasures were to be consented, and, after discussing the brought to the hammer to pay off, usual topics of the day, the trial of perhaps, some paltry debt or mortgage, the Queen, the abundant harvest, the contracted, in all probability, to prosuccess of the Greenland fishery, and cure some favourite or uncommon are subjects of similar importance, my ticles. Although not very superstifriend Duncan remarked, in the usual tious, I could not help adverting to the Scottish mode of putting a question, strange coincidence between the pub

“ I'm thinking, sir, ye'll be gaun lication of my late friend's portrait, in roup," said to the on, the queeristye Leath, which "50 speedily followed. den ever heard tell o'-a sale of stuffed regretted my long absence in England, beasts-snakes-puddocks—and I ken- which had prevented my attending to na weel what a' forbye-naterel curo pay the last tribute to his memory, as, sities, I think they ca’em. They be doubtless, I should, on my return longed to Mr Hawkesworth, at the Ha' home, find an intiination of his death, up bye there the daft laird-MʻRoses and an invitation to the funeral. I farce, some folk ca'd him, that died determined to go over, in the mornabout aight days syne.” Ah ! is ing, to the auction, and purchase a few Hawkesworth dead? that is a sudden articles as mer rials of my friend. call.”

“Ye may be kent him, sir?" In the midst of my reflections and “ Kent him ? yes, intimately. Alas! resolutions, the landlord returned with poor fellow ! he was a very worthy, the elements of conversation, and a eccentric, useless character; I fear small pamphlet, which he produced he'll be missed by few people here- with much satisfaction. “ Ye'll aiblins,

O’d, he was a queer anem. sir, ha' thought me lang o' coming, yet, he was no an ill man for a' but I was seekin' a list of the gear that; but, sir, do ye think he was that's to be selt the morn. I kent I a' thegither right in the head ?” had ane i’ the house, and jaloused ye

Why, perhaps his head was not so wad like to see it--there it's." I was strong as your's or mine, Mr Duncan much pleased with this mark of at-at least, he could not drink so much tention, and eagerly seized the list, toddy--but he had as great a share of which proved to be a descriptive catacommon sense as falls to the lot of logue of the museum, and such other most country gentlemen; but, speak- articles, in the house of Microsophus, ing of toddy, I see the jug is empty as were to be disposed of. I observed, suppose, landlord, you fetch me a fresh with some surprise, to honest Duncan, Vol. VIII.

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that there seemed to be no ordinary and used to colleck for the laird. I'm pieces of household furniture in the mind, ae day, as I was comin' by the catalogue, and inquired, whether he Quarryholes, I forgathered withe had heard the reason of this extraordi- deacon-o'd, he was houking awa nary sale. “ Is it for debt, think ye?” amang the rubbage, and aye picking & “ Debt? hoot na, I dinna think the up something and putting it in a pock laird was muckle in debt; he had he had wi' him. Deacon,' quo' l, eneugh to live gay weel on o' his ain, · what's that ye're seeking ?' Oh,' forbye the siller he got wi' the leddy; quo' he, neibour Duncan,

• I'm just but, I'm thinking 'twill be some whim collecking some speciments for Mr of hers.” “ How so? I always thought Hawkesworth.' Speciments,' quo' I, they lived very happily together. She “I see naething but a wheen stanes.' seemed to me a fine frank cheerful “Weel,'quo' he, 'thae stanes are unco woman.” Fegs, I dinna ken-aib- curious stanes, and will bring me lins she

may but then they had muckle siller.' nae bairns, and ye ken the auld bye “ Well, but Mr Duncan,” said I,

Maids aye wish to be interrupting him, for I saw there was wives, and wives to be mithers,' so no end to his stories, “ I mean to go they were whiles bickering about their over to this sale to-morrow, so, if you a pets, for the leddy aye keeps twa- will send me pen, ink, and paper,

I'll three messin doggies about her; now jot down a few articles from the catathe laird was na ower fond o' pet dogs logue that I wish to bid for, and now i' the house; he aye liket them best we'll drink good night.”. whan they were skinned and stuffed.

Having thus dismissed the landlord, And ane of the Aunkies tell’t me, but and lighted a second pipe, I set myself I canno believe't, that ae day, whan to study the catalogue. I found it a the laird cam hame sair wearied wi' great curiosity, well marking the whimhuntin' butterflees, and vexed at no sical character of the auctioneer, by gettin' ony, ane of the doggies cam in whom it was drawn up. It was evihis gait, and he gied the puir beastie dently calculated to excite the wonder sic an a drive wi' his foot, that it died. and rouse the expectations of the naThe leddy was neither to haud nor tives among whom it had been widely bind about it—and whan the laird, to circulated, with the view of drawing soothe her maybe, said, he'd mak a a crowd from the neighbouring towns speciment o' the brute, she was like and villages. I recognised many

of to gae clean wud, and said, she wish- myold acquaintances, but found severed the museum, and a' that was in't, al articles which had been lately adwere brunt, sae, as I was saying, I ded to the collection. I shall give you jalouse the roup will be owing to her a short specimen of Mr Clearpipes

” and her friends."

manner, by selecting a few lots from “ Why, really, I think you've ac his descriptive catalogue, of the curiocounted for it very plausibly. I should sities and rarities, natural and artifithink such an uncommon sale will cial, belonging to the museum of the demake a great bustle about Saltchurch?” ceased W. Hawkesworth, Esq. of Mago “ Ou, aye, Sir, you'd wonder what a got Hall, &c. phrasin's been made about the laird a' Har’st. 'T'was there he got the name of M‘Roseafarce, owing, they say, to

In the Anti-Room. his picture beirig drawn in ane of

Lot 32. A set of Aints from Dover cliff, the Émbro Magazins, wi' that name under it. I've no seen it, but they tions of beasts, birds, fruits, &c. all in their

exhibiting wonderfully natural representa. say it is as like the laird as ae pea is natural colours. to anither.”

" Indeed! well, but 36. A Merlin's chair, so attractive, that who is this Mr Clearpipes, that is to the person who sits down in it can scarcely act as auctioneer on this occasion ?” persuade himself to quit it. “ Ou, Deacon Clearpipes ? Do ye no

37. Another by the same artist, with a ken the deacon, Sir ? He's as queer a

musical bottom. chieľ as e'er ye saw.

I'm no sure but

38. A bath chair, on an improved conwhat he's amaist as daft about thaestruction, by which a person may easily things as the laird was himsel.' They he may have lost the use of one hand, as

move himself from place to place, thought were unco thrang. The deacon's a well as be lame in the feet. Very fit for great hand at what you ca' meenerals gouty and paralytic patients.

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