and elegant in their persons, occupying this retired spot, which ap. parently afforded scarcely the necessaries of life; this was not, how. ever, a moment for enquiry,--but my impatience to learn some par ticulars of my host was gratified beyond my expectation, by his ingenuous declaration of some circumstances relative to his situation. I thereby understood that he was a Neapolitan nobleman, who, in consequence of having fatally wounded a brother officer in a duel, some months back, had been under the necessity of leaving Italy, and had in retirement sought that security, which in his own country was denied him. The evening being far advanced, I was anxious to depart, and intimating my desire, he very kindly accompanied me, till, by a nearer way, we reached that part of the road which had misled me, and here we parted. Whether it was the courtesy, intelligence, and candor of the husband, the unaffected loveliness of the wife, or the magic of this peculiarly romantic situation, that interested me, I know not; but certain it is, I felt, at parting, a regret, which, from the shortness of our acquaintance, I hardly dared to confess to myself.' Strolling into the coffee-room of les quatre nations at Marseilles one day at the hour of dinner, I could not avoid remarking the manners of different people, and the effect of various languages on the ear of a stranger. Several persons were assembled, either at dinner, reading the newspapers, taking ices, or ordering whatever suited their palate. A little full-dressed, hungry, meagre Frenchman, bossu avec des jambes longues et un nez crochu, with his napkin tucked under his chin, and devouring a sallad with impatient gestures, was, at every mouthful, vociferating, "Garçon! Garçon !"-The latter arriving out of breath, with big drops of symptomatic heat emitting from his brows: Quoi diable, garçon, est ce done comme ça qu'on fait des altentions ici? Il y a plus d'un quart d'heure que j'ai appellé, et personne ne vient! appellez vous cela etre bien servie? Qu'avez vous donc pour diner? Donnez moi la carte sur le champ"-" Eh bien, Monsieur, la voila”—“ Ab! voyons un peu !-Taking a magnifying eye glass out of his pocket, which, by the reflection of the candles, seemed to set the bill of fare on fire. 66 Bouille la sauce. De ros-bifl'Anglois. Demi canard roti, ou aux navets. Quarre de mouton en chevreuil, ou à la reine. Fricandeau à l'ozeille, ou à la Dauphine. Des Epinards au jus. Omelette aux pommes. Oeufs au miroir. Maccaroni, &c. &c. à/à A blustering German Baron, six feet high, surrounded by dishes, none of which seemed to please or satisfy him, was muttering to himself, "Was Teufel! donner wetter! hat er mir gegeben? dis kan ich bey 66 ey meiner seele nicht essen - What the devil, thunder and lightning, has he given me? By my soul this is not eatable."-" Carçon ! fien ici tonc"-"Eh bien, me voila, Monsieur, que vous plait il ?”—“ K. tiab'e kes que ça qu'on m'appart? Me prend on per en pete savage ke je pis manger ceci ou cela in-çi, ke tous vos otres tiables te plats, he "Mais, Monsieur, (said the waiter, with an humble and submissive tone of voice) je vous assure que tout est bon dans notre maison, et"--" Et quoi tonc, Monsieur Hans Wurst! foila des raisonnements toujours, tes tomesti ques quant on temande kek chose, c'est les Carçons de nous faires tes tisputes, tes kerelles !--donner blicksum allez foo au tiable, et dit à ton maitre qu'il fient ici.-Tiable! der verfluchter kerl meint dass man hier mit alles zufrieden seyn muss.-The cursed rascal conceives that one must here be satisfied with every thing."-At this moment, an English naval officer entered the room, who, going to a table, was recognized by an old acquaintance, his countryman. "Ah, George, my worthy, who the D-1 would have thought of seeing you in France? How are you?"--"6 Why, Bedford, G-d dam'me, where do you come from? (replied the other), I thought you were safely lodged in Old England among the loungers in Bond-street, by G-d!” for me, No, I'm on my travels with my tutor." Are you? well I'm d-d glad to see you, by G-d! Let's sit down and crack a bottle of Burgundy together. Here, you waiter, garçon, scaramouch, what's your name, lay the cloth, and bring a bill of fare, d'ye hear? -Monsieur, (said the waiter, staring,) e no understand Inglish.You dont, hey! Why then, G-d dam'me, tell your master to send us a fellow that does. (Another waiter arriving). Here you son of a land lubber, bring in something decent to eat. None of your black broths, cursed fricasée of frogs, or half-starved rabbits ragoued. up into a kickshaw; some beef dam'me, plain roast is good enough by G-d!"-Oui, Monsieur, vous aurez le ros bif tout de suite." This interesting conversation, and volley of expletives, was checked by a large Newfoundland dog, who, in following the officer up the room, had stopped on the way, tempted by the sight and smell of a delicate gigot de mouton, which was visible from the corner of a table occupied by a spruce Abbé and Italian opera dancer, bien poudré, and dressed for the ballet of the evening, who were warmly disputing whether a gigot de mouton fait à la merveille avec sauce piquante, was, or was not preferable to maccaroni à la parmesan. In the heat of controversy, the gigot was nearly edged off the table by the arm of the impetuous Abbé; when impatient Cæsar thinking a donation was intended for him, snapped at the knuckle of the gigot, and with an irresistible pull brought down dish, mutton, haricot, cloth, and plates, on the extended leg of Signor Scamperino, and ran growling with the gigot in his mouth under his master's chair. Up started the Abbé in a rage, vociferating-Oh! Merbleu! sacsistie! quel voleur! Oh! mon gigot-Voila un infame chien-je voudrois qu'il t'etrangle, villain!"-"A il mio gamba, (cried the Italian, rubbing his leg,) e rotta, e non piu ballare-cospetto di Bacco! corpo di Christo! maledetto sia il dog Inglese che ho fatto! A me! son disfortunato e rovinato!—Oh my leg! it's broken, and I shall no longer be able to dance-O Bacchus! body of Christ! curses alight on the English dog who did the act 66 act Oh Lord! I'm undone! I'm ruined! These exclama tions, the clattering of the broken dishes, and the coolness of the dog gnawing the gigst under the table, attracting the attention of the company, created a general laugh at the distress of the Signor and his friend, the passionate Abbé, the latter crying out furiously pour son chapeau, ses gands, sa canne, le compte, tout etant en desordre ou perdu," in the confusion of a crouded room, where la jolie Maitresse at the bar was too deeply engaged in receiving the milles attentions of her admirers, and delivering out bonbons from a boudoir orné, to attend to any mishap at a distance; her surrounding galants pressing her to give them ices à la crême, à la pistache, des marons glacés, des verres de limonade, d'orgeat, des bavoroises, une tasse de caffe, des liqueurs de cannelle, anis, girofle, noyau de la Martinique, de Md Amphon, des isles, and a thousand other et cetera, with which her jo'i cabinet was replenished. This agreeable confusion of tongues, and discordant sounds, continued till a boy entered the room, and distributed les petites affiches, announcing the play of the evening, (wherein la charmante Ponteuille was the chief performer,) a piece which had had a run of several nights, but of which tout le monde was still anxious to be spectators. This broke up the sittings, the amateurs quitted their seats with alacrity, the dilitante hopped off in graceful attitudes, and the cognoscenti, after taking their fousse cafe with a grave and dig nified air, marched au spectacle sans deliberation.' The conversation in the Paris Diligence is managed with due regard to French character and manner: but it is not of a cast sufficiently amiable or interesting to justify an extract. In its stead, we transcribe the concluding paragraph and sonnet : To those who have witnessed the gay and animating scenes of Paris, as it existed at the period when these sketches were drawn, I need not apologize for quitting my subject rather abruptly, -for "memory that would full fain the past recall," will also obtrude on the feeling mind recollections of subsequent events, at which Huma. nity shudders, and Nature stands aghast! - I shall, therefore, pass over in silence the former delights of this great metropolis, and with more pleasing sensations express the joy I experienced when I once more beheld the white cliffs of Dover rearing their proud heads above the ocean. The peculiarly pleasing feelings of the heart, natural to every man on reviewing his native country after a twelvemonth's absence, cannot be better described than in the following lines of a much esteemed friend, which occurred to me as I stood on the beach at Calais, awaiting the moment of departure for En-, gland: SONNET On a distant View of England. Thrice welcome to my longing eyes again, Dear native land: tho' but in shadow trac'd, But But lo the change! while yet I linger here, gray; Thy cliffs, and streaks with gold the prospect clear. Of fondness, mingled with impatience, there.' 367 Having thus endeavoured to appreciate the merit of this performance, we are so far from wishing to fasten on its defects with the severity of critics,' that we would recommend it as an agreeable companion to all who relish continental tours, pleasing description and anecdotes, genteel writing, and typographic luxury. ART. V. Poems, by John Penn, Esq. Consisting of original Works, THIS HIS indefatigable votary of the Muses, whose productions we have had frequent opportunities of announcing, is the grandson and representative of the elder branch of the founder of Pennsylvania, and resides at a beautiful seat, erected by himself, called Stoke Park, in Buckinghamshire. When the Reason of Nations shall have attained its full maturity, the act of William Penn in settling Pennsylvania will be considered as possessing a glory superior to all the blood-earned conquests of antient or modern times. His poetical descendant appears to be animated by the liberal and tolerating spirit which has distinguished the sect to which his illustrious ancestor belonged: but he avows himself a member of the church of England, and expresses great zeal for the preservation of establishments. The present volumes consist partly of old pieces, which have undergone some alteration and revision, and partly of original poems. A long explanatory and critical preface, unfolding the sentiments and intentions of the author, exhibits him to us as a man of an elegant and cultivated mind, and justifies the opinion which we formerly gave of his abilities. As a sincere lover of letters and the arts, he seems to have taken great pains in ascertaining the principles of taste: but we cannot compliment him as having been uniformly successful in his conclusions and illustrations. His explanation of Fitness, in the preface, * See Rev. vol. xxvi. N. S. p. 68., where other references arc given. Muir. & p. xl. may possess the merit of novelty, but we cannot regard it as adapted to convey clear ideas: Fitness may not unaptly be compared to a pane of fine plateglass, through which we sometimes see a beautiful prospect. It is not itself the object at which we look, but merely the medium through which we discover it. Where the plate-glass is opposite to an inner court, we no longer perceive any thing that charms us.' We should rather have said, by Fitness, we generally understand adaptation of parts, congruity, and harmonious disposition of objects, which may be contemplated through a pane of plate-glass, but which exists independently of the medium through which we may view it. ་ Another maxim, which this gentleman lays down, demands also some consideration. Such critics as aspire to acumen,' he ..says, will avoid the imputation of judging compositions by their manner, which only claim notice on account of their matter? Critics who aspire to acumen will take both the matter and the manner of compositions into their consideration. Poems, in particular, require that the beauty of expression should be as much consulted as the justness of the sentiment; and Horace's advice, dulcia sunto, should be always present to the poet's mind. It is not sufficient that the matter be good, the manner must also be charming. Strokes of genius and profundity of thought may be displayed, without polish and elegance though the want of grace cannot deprive them of their value, their attractions must ever be diminished by this deficiency. In what work of taste is the manner altogether disregarded, and notice only claimed on account of the matter? and Mr. Penn enters a protest against being criticized and condemned merely on the secondary ground of style; and he declares that it is indifferent to him whether his publications are received with smiles or frowns, since favour cannot be more flattering to him than discouragement. It is, however, almost impossible for an author, who publishes with fine types, on fine paper, and with splendid embellishments, to possess absolute indifference respecting the opinion of the world :-but setting aside all personal considerations, our wish is to render the most ample justice on this as on every occasion. From the new pieces, we shall first transcribe an entire poem: ODE on the Death of Thomas Fountayne, Esq. 1780. Say, what new fierceness of intent, *Son of the present Dean of York, and the subject of one of Mason's epitaphs.' |