a a Owenson's pardon) “ cannot endue ry body; and the father, after being her purpose with words that make several days without food, is drag. it known ;" but, by illegible, means ged to a spunging house, where he what may be read, and is, consequent. expires ! Ida runs frantically through ly, in earnest; the case is somewhat the streets, and falls into the arms of altered, and we must endeavour to the English traveller, who is now bemake out the story. come a lord, and very gallantly reIda of Athens, a Greck girl, half news his offers, which are again reancient and half modern, falls despe- jected. In consequence of an adverrately in love with a young slave; tisement in the publick papers, Ida and, when he is defeated and taken discovers a rich uncle, who dies very prisoner, in a fray more ridiculously opportunely, and leaves her " the begun and ended than the wars of most opulent heiress of Great Bris Tom Thum the Great, marries a tain." “ Disdar-aga," to save his life. This The fair Greek abuses her prospesimple personage, instead of taking rity ; but before her fortune and repossession of his bride, whom he has putation are quite gone, the slave “placed on an ottoman of down,"cou. makes his appearance once moreleur de rose, rushes from the apartment not as a Janissary, but as a general to see a noise which he heard:” and officer in the Russian service; and has scarcely thrust his head out of being now convinced that the familithe street door, when, to his inex- arity of the Disdar-aga led to no pressible amazement, it is dexterous- unseemly consequence, marries his ly sliced off “ by an agent of the quondam mistress for good and all, Porte;"* and Ida, without waiting for and carries her to Russia, "a country her thirds, runs joyfully home to her congenial by its climate to her delicate father. Meanwhile the Greek slave, constitution and luxurious habits; and who had, somewhat unpolitely, look- by its character, to her tender, sensied through the Disdar-aga's tive and fanciful disposition !" iv. p. ment,” and seen Ida in his arms, 286. very naturally takes it in dudgeon, Such is the story, which inay be and enrolls himself among the Janis- dismissed as merely foolish; but the saries. Ida, on her side, having no sentiments and language must not engagement on her hands, falls in escape quite so easily. The latter is love with an English traveller, who an inflated jargon, composed of terms offers her a settlement, which she picked up in all countries, and wholvery modestly rejects. A long train ly irreducible to any ordinary rules of wo succeeds. Her father is strip- of grammar or sense. The former ped of his property, and thrown into are mischievous in tendency, and a dungeon; from which he is deliver. profligate in principle, licentious ed by the Janissary on duty (the pry- and irreverent in the highest deing lover of Ida) who, without making gree. To revelation, Miss Owenhimself known, assists them to quit son manifests a singular antipathy. the country, and embark for England. It is the subject of many profound “They launch into the Archipelago, diatribes, which want nothing but that interesting sea, so precious tó meaning to be decisive. Yet Miss the soul of genius ;' iv. p. 45, and Owenson is not without an object of after many hair-breadth 'scapes, ar- worship. She makes no account, inrive in London. Here they are deed, of the Creator of the universe, cheated, robbed, and insulted by eve. unless to swear by his name; but, in return, she manifests a prodigious Wrong :-he turns sick as he is running after “ the Capadilger Keayassa,” respect for something that she digniand dies in a ditch. See vol. iii. p. 143. fies with the name of Nature, which, Printer's Devil. it seems, governs the world, and, as case 1 we gather from her creed, is to be due process of time, might be added honoured by libertinism in the wo- a pocket dictionary. She might then men, disloyalty in the men, and athe- take a few easy lessons in “ joinedism in both. hand,” in order to become legible. This young lady, as we conclude If, after this, she could be persuaded from her introduction, is the enfante to exchange her idle raptures for gaté of a particular circle, who see, common sense; practise a little selfin her constitutional sprightliness, denial; and gather a few precepts of marks of genius, and encourage her humility from an old-fashioned book, dangerous propensity to publication which, although it does not seem to She has evidently written more than have lately fallen in her way, may she has read, and read more than she yet, we think, be found in some corhas thought. But this is beginning ner of her study; she might then at the wrong end. If we were happy hope to prove, not indeed a good enough to be in her confidence, we writer of novels, but a useful friend, should advise the immediate pur- a faithful wife, a tender mother, and chase of a spelling book, of which a respectable and happy mistress of she stands in great need; to this, in a family. FROM THE EDINBURGH REVIEW. Reliques of Robert Burns, consisting chiefly of Original Letters, Poems, and Critical Observations on Scottish Songs. Collected and published by R. H. Cromek. 8vo. pp. 450. London. 1808.-Philadelphia, republished by Bradford and Inskeep, 1809. BURNS is certainly by far the other which could have been assigngreatest of our poetical prodigies- ed him. He was taught, at a very from Stephen Duck down to Thomas early age, to read and write ; and Dermody. They are forgotten al- soon after acquired a competent ready ; or only remembered for de- knowledge of French, together with rision. But the name of Burns, if the elements of Latin and geometry. we are not mistaken, has not yet His taste for reading was encouraged “ gathered all its fame;" and will by his parents and many of his assoendure long after those circumstan- ciates; and, before he had ever comces are forgotten which contributed posed a single stanza, he was not only to its first notoriely. So much, in- familiar with many prose writers; but deed, are we impressed with a sense far more intimately acquainted with of his merits, that we cannot help Pope, Shakspeare, and Thomson, thinking it a derogation from them than nine tenths of the youth that to consider him as a prodigy at ald; leave school for the university. These and are convirced that he will never authors, indeed, with some old collecbe rightly estimated as a poet, till tions of songs, and the lives of Hanthat vulgar wonder be entirely re- nibal and of sir William Wallace, pressed which was raised on his ha- were his habitual study from the first ving been a ploughman. It is true, days of his childhood; and, cooperano doubt, that he was born in a ting with the solitude of his rural oce humble station, and that much of his cupations, were sufficient to rouse early life was devoted to severe la his ardent and ambitious mind to the bour, and to the society of his fellow love and the practice of poetry. He labourers. But he was not himself had as much scholarship, we imaeither uneducated or illiterate ; and gine, as Shakspeare, and far better was placed, perhaps, in a situation models to form his ear to harmony, more favourable to the development and train his fancy to graceful in. of great poetical talentsy than any vention.. We ventured, on a former occasion, to say something of the effects of regular education, and of the general diffusion of literature, in repressing the vigour and originality of all kinds of mental exertion. That speculation was, perhaps, carried somewhat too far; but if the paradox have proof any where, it is in its application to poetry. Among well educated people, the standard writers of this description are at once so venerated and so familiar, that it is thought equally impossible to rival them, and to write verses without attempting it. If there be one degree of fame which excites emulation, there is another which leads to despair; nor can we conceive any one less likely to add one to the short list of original poets, than a young man of fine fancy and delicate taste, who has acquired a high relish for poetry, by perusing the most celebrated writers, and conversing with the most intelligent judges. The head of such a person is filled, of course, with all the splendid passages of ancient and modern authors, and with the fine and fasti dious remarks which have been made even on these passages. When he turns his eyes, therefore, on his own conceptions, they can scarcely fail to appear rude and contemptible. He is perpetually haunted and depressed by the ideal presence of those great masters and their exacting criticks. He is aware to what comparisons his productions will be subjected among his own friends and associates; and recollects the derision with which so many rash adventurers have been chased back to their obscurity. Thus, the merit of his great predecessors chills, instead of encouraging his ardour; and the illustrious names which have already reached to the summit of excellence, act like the tall and spreading trees of the forest, which overshadow and strangle the saplings which have struck root in the soil below, and afford shelter to nothing but creepers and parasites. There is, no doubt, in some few individuals, "that strong divinity of soul," that decided and irresistible vocation to glory, which, in spite of all these obstructions, calls out, perhaps, once or twice in a century, a bold and original poet from the herd of scholars and academical literati. But the natural tendency of their studies, and by far the most common operation, is to repress originality, and discourage enterprise; and either to change those whom nature meant for poets, into mere readers of poe try, or to bring them out in the form of witty parodists, or ingenious imitators. Independent of the reasons which have been already suggested, it will, perhaps, be found too, that necessity is the mother of invention in this as well as in the more vulgar arts; or, at least, that inventive genius will frequently slumber in inaction, where preceding ingenuity has in part supplied the wants of the owner. A solitary and uninstructed man, with lively feelings and an inflammable imagination, will be easily led to exercise those gifts, and to occupy and relieve his mind in poetical composition; but if his education, his reading, and his society supply him with an abundant store of images and emotions, he will probably think but little of these internal resources, and feed his mind contentedly with what has been provided by the industry of others. To say nothing, therefore, of the distractions and the dissipation of mind that belong to the commerce of the world, nor of the cares of minute accuracy and high finishing which are imposed on the professed scholar, there seem to be deeper reasons for the separation of originality and accomplishment; and for the partiality which has led poetry to choose almost all her favourites among the recluse and uninstructed. A youth of quick parts, in short, and creative fancy, with just so much reading as, to guide his ambition, and rough-hew his notions of excellence,if his lot be thrown in humble retirement, The first is, the undisciplined where he has no reputation to lose, harshness and acrimony of his invecand where he can easily hope to excel tive. The great boast of polished all that he sees around him, is much life is the delicacy, and even the gemore likely, we think, to give him- nerosity of its hostility,-that quality self up to poetry, and to train him- which is still the characteristick, as it self to habits of invention, than if he is the denomination, of a gentleman, had been encumbered by the pretend--that principle which forbids us to ed helps of extended study and lite- attack the defenceless, to strike the rary society. fallen, or to mangle the slaii),—and If these observations should fail to enjoins us, in forging the shafts of strike of themselves, they may, per- satire, to increase the polish exactly haps, derive additional weight from as we add to their keenness or their considering the very remarkable fact, weight. For this, as well as for other that almost all the great poets of things, we are indebted to chivalry; every country have appeared in an and of this Burns had none. His in. early stage of their history, and in a genious and amiable biographer has period comparatively rude and unlet- spoken repeatedly in praise of his tatered. Homer went forth like the lents for satire,--we think, with a morning star before the dawn of lite- most unhappy partiality. His epirature in Greece; and almost all the grams and lampoons appear to us, great and sublime poets of modern one and all, unworthy of him;-offenEurope are already between two and sive from their extreme coarseness three hundred years old. Since that and violence,--and contemptible from time, although books, and readers, and their want of wit or brilliancy. They opportunities of reading are multi- seem to have been written, not out of plied a thousand fold, we have im- playful malice or virtuous indignaproved chiefly in point and terseness tion; but out of fierce and ungovernof expression, in the art of raillery, able anger. His whole raillery conand in clearness and simplicity of sists in railing; and his satirical vein thought. Force, richness, and variety displays itself chiefly in calling names of invention are now at least as rare and in swearing. We say this mainly as ever. But the literature and refine- with a reference to his personalities. ment of the age does not exist at all In many of his more general reprefor a rustick and illiterate individual; sentations of life and manners, there and, consequently, the present time is, no doubt, much that may be called is to him what the rude times of old satirical, mixed up with admirable were to the vigorous writers which humour, and description of inimitaadorned them. ble vivacity. But though, for these and for other There is a similar want of polish, reasons, we can see no propriety in or at least of respectfulness, in the regarding the poetry of Burns chiefly general tone of his gallantry. He has as the wonderful work of a peasant, written with more passion, perhaps, and thus admiring it much in the and more variety of natural feeling, same way as if it had been written on the subject of love, than any other with his toes; yet there are pecu- poet whatsoever,--but with a fervour liarities in his works which remind that is sometimes indelicate, and selus of the lowness of his origin, and dom accommodated to the timidity faults for which the defects of his and “sweet, austere composure” of education afford an obvious cause, if women of refinement. He has exnot a legitimate apology. In forming pressed admirably the feelings of an a correct estimate of these works, it enamoured peasant, who, however reis necessary to take into account those fined or eloquent he may be, always peculiarities. approaches his mistress on a footing a a a of equality ; but has never caught ceeds from their own. A man may that tone of chivalrous gallantry say of his friend, that he is a noblewhich uniformly abases itself in the hearted fellow,--too generous to be presence of the object of its devotion. just, and with too much spirit to be Accordingly, instead of suing for a always prudent and regular. But he smile, or melting in a tear, his muse cannot be allowed to say even this of deals in nothing but locked embraces himself; and still less to represent and midnight rencontres ; and, even himself as a hairbrained, sentimental in his complimentary effusions to la- soul, constantly carried away by fine dies of the highest rank, is for strain- fancies and visions of love and philaning them to the bosom of their impe- 'thropy, and born to confound and tuous votary. It is easy, accordingly, despise the cold blooded sons of pruto see from his correspondence, that dence and sobriety. This apology many of his female patronesses evidently destroys itself; for it shows shrunk from the vehement familiari. that conduct to be the result of delity of his admiration ; and there are berate system, which it affects at the even some traits in the volumes be- same time to justify as the fruit of fore us, from which we can gather, mere thoughtlessness and casual imthat he resented the shyness and es- pulse. Such protestations, therefore, trangement to which these feelings will always be treated, as they degave rise, with at least as little chi- serve, not only with contempt, but valry as he had shown in producing with incredulity; and their magnanithem. mous authors set down as determined But the leading vice in Burns's profligates, who seek to disguise their character, and the cardinal deformity, selfishness under a name somewhat indeed, of all his productions, was his less revolting. That profligacy is contempt, or affectation of contempt, almost always selfishness, and that for prudence, decency, and regulari- the excuse of impetuous feeling can ty ; and his admiration of thought- hardly ever be justly pleaded for lessness, oddity, and vehement sensi- those who neglect the ordinary duties bility ;-his belief, in short, in the of life, must be apparent, we think, dispensing power of genius and social even to the least reflecting of those feeling, in all matters of morality and sons of fancy and song. It requires common sense. This is the very no habit of deep thinking, nor any slang of the worst German plays, and thing more, indeed, than the inforthe lowest of our lown made novels; mation of an honest heart, to perceive nor can any thing be more lamenta- that it is cruel and base to spend, in ble, than that it should have found a vain superfluities, that money which patron in such a man as Burns, and belongs of right to the pale, induscommunicated to a great part of his trious tradesman and his famishing productions a character of immorali- infants ; or that it is a vile prostituty, at once contemptible and hateful. tion of language, to talk of that man's It is but too true, that men of the generosity or goodness of heart, who highest genius have frequently been sits raving about friendship and phihurried by their passions into a viola- lanthropy in a tavern, while his wife's tion of prudence and duty; and there heart is breaking at her cheerless fireis something generous, at least, in side, and his children pining in soli , the apology which their admirers tary poverty. may make for them, on the score of This pitiful cant of careless feeling their keener feelings and habitual and eccentrick genius, accordingly, want of reflection. But this apology, has never found much favour in the which is quite unsatisfactory in the eyes of English sense and morality, mouth of another, becomes an insult The most signal effect which it ever and an absurdity whenever it pro- produced, was on the muddy brains a a |