Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

displeas'd not only the fanaticks, but even
such as had gloried much in the ingadge.
ment 1648; for that parliament fell under
the same condemnation. And some of the
best affected, but moderate Cavaleers, did
not approve it; for they thought it dishon-
ourable for the memorie of that incompara-
ble king to have that parliament, 1641,
wherein he sate, rescinded, as they judg'd
it a dangerous preparative to rescind all
that had past in a time when the people
were made to believe that these parliaments
were warranted by his Maj.; but to satisfie
these, it was provided by ane express salvo,
that all such privat persones as had obtained
privat rights or securities from any of these
parliaments, or any deryving power from
them, should be secure, except they were
particularlie questioned before the act of
indemnitie. Only the parliament 1649 was
absolutlie rescinded without any such salvo,
because they had no warrand even by the
bill of trienniall parliaments, as is clear by
the historie of these tymes."

After giving an account of the manner in which the excise of £40,000 sterling annually, granted by Parliament to the King during life, was carried, and showing how burdensome this impost was to the nation, Sir George adds:

"Nor did these provisos in the act any

way lessen the burden; for it was in vain to think that his Majestie's successores wold not pretend, that because their expenses were equal to his Maj., that therfor the same subsidie should not be deny'd; and subsidies are in this like to the devill, that

both are more easily rais'd than laid. And when the subsequent impositions were craved, and this promise, never to exact any more cess, objected, it was ansuered, that his Majestie did not exact or impose any new cess, but that these were voluntary offers. Pardon me, reader, to intreat thee, that if ever thou become a member of parKament, then consider what curses are day; lie pour'd out by many poor, hungrie, and opprest creatures, upon such as are in accession to the imposing of taxes; for they not only torment poor people for the present, bot they mak way for new ones, and new taxes are the only means of making old ones seeme easie."

The fact of the Duke of Albemarle (Monk) having transmitted, during the trial of the Marquis of Argyle, letters written to him by the Marquis, which led to his condemnation, has been repeatedly called in question, and confidently denied. Sir George Mackenzie was one of Argyle's counsel,, and his testimony will, it is presumed, be sufficient to set this controversy at rest.

The relevancie of the articles (says he in the MS.) being discussed, probatione was

ledd for proving the late complyance after
the year 1651, and his accession to the
king's murther, which was excepted out of
the letter; and though verie many witness-
es were adduced, yet some thought the pro-
But after the debate and
bation not full.
probation was all closed, and the Parlia-
ment ready to consider the whole matter,
one who came post from London knockit
most rudelie at the parliament door; and
upon his entrie with a packet, which he
presented to the Commissioner, mad him
conclude that he had brought a remission,
or some other warrand, in favours of the
Marques, and the rather because the beerer
was a Campbell. But the packet being
opened, it was found to have in it a great
many letters, which had been directed by
the Marques to the Duke of Albemarle,
when he was General in Scotland, and which
he reserv'd to see if they were absolutlie
necessary; and being by these diligent en-
voys (Glencairn and Rothes) advertised of
the scantnes of the probation, he had sent
them post by M'Naughton's servant.
sooner were these produced, but the Parlia-
ment was fullie satisfied as to the proof of
the compliance, and the next day he was
forfaulted," &c.*

No

The MS. gives a minute account of
the proceedings respecting (what was
called) the billeting act, anno 1662;
by which the Parliament declared
twelve persons, selected by ballot, in-
capable of serving his Majesty in any
At that time we are
place of trust.
told-

"Lauderdale was brought so low, that
his Maj. wold close the door upon hir
when he call'd in, Tarbat. He was under-
valu'd by his enemies, and deserted by his
friends; and if prosperitie (which, like all
rype things, do's soon corrupt) had not be
tray'd Midletoun and his friends to too
much arbitrariness and want of circumspec-
tion, Lauderdale had sunk under the weight
of his owne misfortunes."

Various instances of Lauderdale's violent and over-bearing conduet occur. When he was Commissioner in

The labour which has been taken to wipe off this blot from the character of Monk by Dr Campbell-(Biographia Britannica, art.Campbell [ Archibald], marquis of Argyle) and by Mr Rose (Observations on Mr Fox's Historical Work, pp. 22-26) is not altogether without its use. The perusal of what they have written on this subject may be of utility, in shewing how dangerous it is to rest on what is called negative proof in opposition to positive testimony and that it is not difficult, or at least not impossible, to bring forward many ingenious and plausible arguments, to prove that a thing could not be, which, after all, turns out to be an undoubted fact.

[ocr errors]

1669, great opposition being made in parliament to an act, which he wished to carry, for laying a duty upon salt used in curing fish ;—"at last the Commissioner rose in a passion, and told, that though the Parliament stopt the act, yet they should gain nothing by it; for he wold, by virtue of his Majestie's prerogative, pepper the fishing (as he termed it) with impositions." After a "long and deep silence," the debate was resumed, and the act was finally carried by the casting vote of the Chancellor, as president.

The following account is given of the reasons of the act, making parishes liable for the insolencies committed against ministers.

"Ministers, to the great contempt of religion, had their houses robbed, and were mightlie persew'd for their lives, in all the western shires; so that they were forced to keep guards, which exhausted their stipends, and abstracted themselves from their employments: And albeit these shyres pretended that this was done by highwaymen, who sheltered their insolencies under the

pretext of religion, calling themselves presbyterians, and inveighing against the poor ministers, whom they robb'd, in the language of that sort; yet it was concluded, that these insolencies were committed by those of that persuasion who were known to think that all injuries done to Episcopall ministers were so many acceptable services done to God; and it was most probable, that the same zeall which carried them on to plunder, imprisone, and execute, all such as differed from them in the last rebellion, and to shoot at the Bishop of St Andrewes

upon the street, might incite them to great outrages, when they were countenanced, as they thought, by authoritie, and under the silence of night, when they might hope for impunitle: Nor was ever the west countrie known to be infected with robbers at other occasions; so that they were connivers at least in these crimes, and therefor deserv'd to be fyn'd upon such occasions. These motives induc'd the parliament to agree unanimouslie to this act, and how soon both acts were past his Grace toucht them immediatlie with the sceptre."

"Yet (adds Sir George) all this outward zeal for Episcopacie could never prevaill with the bishops to believe Lauderdale their friend; nor were the leading Presbyterians terrified at these as marks of his disesteem; because fanaticks were advanc'd to all places

of trust, and the friends and servands of the grandees (who could not dissemble so well as their masters) laugh'd at Episcopacie and the malignant party; nor is there any surer mark to know the master's inclinations, than by considering whom he employs, and what these speak."

The Duchess of Hamilton, and

Lady Margaret Kennedy, warmly pa tronised the Presbyterians for a considerable time. The following anecdote, concerning the last of these ladies, is related in the MS.

"Lauderdale had of a long time entertained with Ladie Margaret Kennedie, daughter to the Earle of Cassilis, ane intimacie which had growne great enough to become suspitious in a persone who lov'd not, as some said, his own ladie. This ladie had never married, and was alwayes reputit a wit, and the great patron of the Presbyterians, in which profession she was much upon her living in the Abbey in very bigot; and the suspition encrcased which no woman els lodged. Nor did the Commissioner blush to goe openlie to her chamber in his night-goune. Whereupon her friends having challenged her for that unusual commerce, and having represented to her the open reprehensions and railiries of the people, received no other answer than that her vertue was above suspition: as indeed it was; she being a persone whose reexceeded others of her sex.”, ligion exceeded as far her wit, as her parts

Bishop Burnet afterwards married this noblewoman, and detached her from her former religious connexions. From the manner in which some of the presbyterian writers have adverted to this alliance, it would seem that they were as much displeased with Dr Burnet, for depriving them of their accomplished patroness, as on account of the controversial writings which he published against them.-Burnet is no favourite with Sir George Mackenzie, who has treated his character with severity in the course of the history.

I shall only add another fact mentioned in the MS. and which I do not recollect to have seen elsewhere. Previous to 1677, it was customary for the Lord Advocate to give his vote, along with the Judges, on causes in which he was the prosecutor. The passage which states this can afterwards be sent to you, if any of your readers have a desire to see it.

I am not altogether without hopes, that the publication of this letter may lead to the discovery of that part of Sir George Mackenzie's history which I do not possess. And I cannot conclude, without expressing my earnest desire, that individuals who may have in their possession manuscripts relating to our national history, would, through the channel of your miscellany, impart a knowledge of them to the public...I am, &c. THO. M'CRIE. Edinburgh, 12th June 1817.

1817.

Original Poetry.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

[blocks in formation]

To thee the sad-to thee the weary fly;
They rest in peace beneath thy sacred gloom,
Thou sole companion of the lonely tomb;
No leaves but thine in pity o'er them sigh:
Lo! now to Fancy's gaze thou seem'st to
spread

Thy shadowy boughs, to shroud me with
the dead.

THE WREATH.

I SOUGHT the garden's gay parterre
To cull a wreath for Mary's hair,
And thought I surely here might find
Some Emblem of her lovely mind,
Where Taste displays the varied bloom
Of Flora's beauteous drawing-room.

And, first, of peerless form and hue,
The stately Lily caught my view,
Fair bending from her graceful stem
Like Queen with regal diadem:
But though I viewed her with delight,
She seemed too much to woo the sight-
A fashionable belle-to shine

In some more courtly wreath than mine.
I turned and saw a tempting row
Of flaunting Tulips full in blow-
But left them with their gaudy dyes
To Nature's beaux-the butterflies.

Bewildered 'mid a thousand hues
Still harder grew the task to choose :-
Here delicate Carnations bent
Their heads in lovely languishment,
Much as a pensive Miss expresses,
With neck declined, her soft distresses-
There, gay Jonquilles in foppish pride
Stood by the Painted-Lady's side,
And Hollyhocks superbly tall
Beside the Crown-Imperial :-
But still midst all this gorgeous glow
Seemed less of sweetness than of shew;
While close beside in warning grew
The allegoric Thyme and Rue.

There, too, stood that fair-weather Flower
Which, faithful still in sunshine hour,
With fervent adoration turns

Its breast where golden Phoebus burns→→→
Base symbol (which I scorn'd to lift)
Of friends that change as fortunes shift.
VOL. I.

Tired of the search I bent my way
Where *****'s lonely waters stray,
And from the wild-flowers of the grove
I framed a garland for my love:
The slender circlet first to twine
I plucked the rambling Eglantine,
That decked the cliff in clusters free
As sportive and as sweet as she:
I stole the Violet from the brook,
Though hid like her in shady nook,
And wove it with the Mountain-Thyme
The myrtle of our stormy clime:
The Hare-bell looked like Mary's eye,
The Blush-Rose breathed her tender sigh,
And Daisies, bathed in dew, exprest
Her innocent and gentle breast.

And, now, my Mary's brow to braid
This chaplet in her bower is laid-
A fragrant Emblem fresh and wild
Of simple Nature's sweetest child.

SONG.

MAID of my heart-a long farewell!
The bark is launched, the billows swell,
And the vernal gales are blowing free
To bear me far from love and thee!

I hate Ambition's haughty name,

And the heartless pride of Wealth and Fame;
Yet now I haste through Ocean's roar
To woo them on a distant shore.

Can pain or peril bring relief
To him who bears a darker grief?
Can absence calm this feverish thrill?
-Ah, no!-for thou wilt haunt me still!

Thy artless grace, thy open truth,
Thy form that breathed of love and youth,
Thy voice by Nature framed to suit
The tone of Love's enchanted lute!
Thy dimpling cheek and deep-blue eye,
Where tender thought and feeling lie!
Thine eye-lid like the evening cloud
That comes the star of love to shroud!
Each witchery of soul and sense,
Enshrined in angel innocence,
Combined to frame the fatal spell-→→→
That blest-and broke my heart! Farewell

[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

We buried him darkly at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning,
By the struggling moon-beam's misty light,
And the lantern dimly burning.
No useless coffin enclosed his breast,

Nor in sheet nor in shroud we bound him, But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.'

Few and short were the prayers we said,
And we spoke not a word of sorrow,
But we stedfastly gazed on the face of the
dead,

And we bitterly thought of the morrow. We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread

o'er his head,

And we far away on the billow.

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,

And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, But nothing he'll reck, if they let him sleep

[blocks in formation]

Yet, Lina! hadst thou marked, when there The lowly weed enrobed the Fair, What nameless charms-what graces new Its chastened lustre round her threw,While, all around, the Flowers were seen Do homage to the Rose's Queen: O! thou'dst have doff'd that robe of pride, Those sparkling gems have cast aside, And, simply decked as Nature bade, Scorned Fashion's-worse than useless-aid!

The following is a literal translation of the prose original, of which the above lines are a paraphrastical imitation. The reader of taste will readily feel how very superior its admirable simplicity is to the comparatively ornate style of the translation.

THE Angel who watches over Flowers, and in the still night waters them with dew, one day of Spring was sleeping in the shade of a Rose-bush.

And when he awoke, with friendly look he said: "Loveliest of my children! I thank thee for thy refreshing fragrance and thy cooling shade. Wouldst thou now aught for thyself request, how willingly would I grant it!"

66

Then, adorn me with a new grace"thereupon entreated the Spirit of the Rosebush. And the Flower-Angel attired the fairest of Flowers in simple Moss. Lovely stood she then in modest weeds-the Moss Rose-the fairest of her kind.

Fair Lina! leave the gaudy attire and the glittering jewels, and follow the monitions of maternal nature.

Krummacher's "Parabeln."

THE MOSS ROSE.

(From the German of Krummacher.) EREWHILE, in Orient's sunny clime, When earth-born things were yet in prime, Nor guilt the golden bands had riven That linked in peace the earth to heaven,The Angel-Sprite, whose bounded powers Are given to tend the tribes of Flowers,Each leaf at eve with balm bedewing, At morn each faded charm renewing,One noon, on Spring's first petals laid, Had couched him in a Rose-tree's shade. Refreshed anon he raised his head, And smiling to the Rose-tree said: "My loveliest child, my darling Rose! Accept the thanks thy father owes ;Thanks for thy fragrance freely shed From ruby cup around my head,Thanks for thy cool reviving shade, . While slumbering in thy shelter laid! O ask!-whate'er the boon-'tis thine; The joy to grant the boon be mine.""Then o'er my form new beauties shed"— At once the Rose-tree's spirit said. And lo! ere scarce the words have birth, From fragrant wreaths slow-struggling forth, The loveliest Flower with Moss is braided The humblest weed her branches shaded!

THE TWO GRAVES.

(From the German of Klopstock. WHOSE is this lonely grave? "Stranger! 'tis Rochefoucault's." Who sleeps beneath this fairer sod? "Cordé sleeps."

I go I gather the breathing flowers, To strew them around on your graves: For ye died for your fathers' land!

"Gather them not."

J. F.

[blocks in formation]

REVIEW OF NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Lalla Rookh. An Oriental Romance. By THOMAS MOORE. 4to. London, Longman and Co., 1817.

MR MOORE is beyond all comparison the most ingenious, brilliant, and fanciful Poet of the present age. His external senses seem more delicate and acute than those of other men; and thus perceptions and sensations crowd in upon him from every quarter, apparently independent of volition, and with all the vehemence and vivacity of instinct. He possesses the poetical temperament to excess, and his mind seems always in a state of pleasure, gladness, and delight, even without the aid of imagination, and by means merely of the constant succession and accumulation of feelings, sentiments, and images. The real objects of our every-day world to his eyes glow with all the splendour of a dream, and even during the noon of manhood, he beholds, in all the works of creation, that fresh and unimpaired novelty which forms the glory, and so rarely survives the morning of life. Along with this extreme delicacy and fineness of organization, he possesses an ever-active and creative Fancy, which at all times commands the whole range of his previously-acquired images, and suddenly, as at the waving of a magic wand, calls them up into life and animation. Feeling and Fancy therefore are the distinguishing attributes of his poetical character; yet is he far from being unendowed with loftier qualities, and he occasionally exhibits a strength of Intellect, and a power of Imagination, which raise him above that class of writers to which he might otherwise seem to belong, and place him triumphantly by the side of our greatest Poets.

With this warmth of temperament, exceeding even the ordinary vivacity of the Irish national character, and with a fancy so lively and volatile, it behoved Mr Moore, when first starting as a poet in early life, to be cautious in the choice both of his models and his subjects. In both he was most unfortunate; and every lover of virtue must lament, that while his first pro

with genuine feeling and passion, ductions sometimes breathe and glow and often exhibit harmless and amusing flights of capricious fancy, they are so fatally infected with a spirit to which we can give no other name than licentiousness, and which is incompatible with that elevation and dignity of moral sentiment essential to the very existence of real Poetry.

But though he was thus early led astray, he soon began to feel how mean and how unworthy were even the highest triumphs won in such a field, and to pant for nobler achievements. Even in his most unguarded and indefensible productions, his ideas were too bright, sparkling, fugitive, and aerial, to become the slavish ministers of sensuality. His mind was unduly inflamed, but it was not corrupted. The vital spirit of virtue yet burned strong in his soul,-its flame soon began to glow with less wavering lustre, and with manifest aspiration to its native heaven. The errors and aberrations of his youthful genius seemed forgotten by his soul, as it continued to advance through a nobler and purer region; and it is long since Mr Moore has redeemed himself-nobly redeemed himself, and become the eloquent and inspired champion of virtue, liberty, and truth.

There can indeed be no greater mistake, than to consider this Poet, since his genius has ripened and come to maturity, as a person merely full of conceits, ingenuity, and facetiousness.. Many of his songs are glorious compositions, and will be inmortal. What-. ever is wild, impassioned, chivalrous, and romantic, in the history of his country, and the character of his countrymen, he has touched with a pencil. of light, nor is it too high praise to say of him, that he is the Burns of Ireland. True, that he rarely exhibits that intense strength and simplicity of emotion by which some of the best songs of our great national Poet carry themselves, like music from Heaven, into the depths of our soul,-but whenever imagination requires and asks the aid of her sister fancy,-whenever generous and lofty sensibilities, to the

« AnteriorContinuar »