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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 288, Supplementary Number

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Дата написания1970-01-01

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Various The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction / Volume 10, No. 288, Supplementary Number

SPIRIT OF "THE ANNUALS" FOR 1828

Our readers have annually anticipated a high treat from this splendid intellectual banquet, served up by some of the master1 spirits of the age.

We doubt whether the comparison is refined enough for the fair authoresses; but our fancy has led us to class their contributions to the present feast as follow:—

Hock—Champagne, (Still and Sparkling.)

L.E.L

Hood

Bucellas

Miss Mitford

Bernard Barton

Lacrymae Christi

Mrs. Hemans

Watts

Delta

Port

Coleridge

Southey

Claret

Montgomery,

with a due proportion of vin ordinaire. This comparison may be pleasant enough as after-dinner chat, but we fear our readers will think it like cooks circulating the Bills of Fare on the morning of Lord Mayor's Day; and lest we should incur their displeasure, we shall proceed with our select course: but we are mere disposers.

THE LITERARY SOUVENIR

In literary talent, as well as in graphic beauty, this elegant volume stands first; and from it we have selected the subject of the above engraving, accompanied by the following

ANCIENT SONG OF VICTORY

BY MRS. HEMANS

Fill high the bowl, with Samian wine, Our virgins dance beneath the shade.

BYRON

Lo! they come, they come! Garlands for every shrine! Strike lyres to greet them home; Bring roses, pour ye wine! Swell, swell the Dorian flute Thro' the blue, triumphal sky! Let the Cittern's tone salute The Sons of Victory! With the offering of bright blood, They have ransomed earth and tomb, Vineyard, and field, and flood;— Lo! they come, they come! Sing it where olives wave, And by the glittering sea, And o'er each hero's grave,— Sing, sing, the land is free! Mark ye the flashing oars, And the spears that light the deep! How the festal sunshine pours Where the lords of battle sweep! Each hath brought back his shield,— Maid, greet thy lover home! Mother, from that proud field, Lo! thy son is come! Who murmured of the dead? Hush, boding voice! we know That many a shining head Lies in its glory low. Breathe not those names to-day! They shall have their praise ere long, And a power all hearts to sway In ever-burning song. But now shed flowers, pour wine, To hail the conquerors home! Bring wreaths for every shrine— Lo! they come, they come!

The original engraving is by Edward Goodall, from a painting by William Linton, Esq. It is altogether a rich and glorious composition, at this moment too, glowing with more than pictorial interest; and the carmen triumphale of the poetess is a worthy accompaniment. Among the other engravings the frontispiece and opposite page of this work are extremely rich and beautiful: Psyche borne by the Zephyrs to the Island of Pleasure, is full of languishing beauty; Medora, painted by Pickersgill and engraved by Rolls, is a delightfully placid moonlight scene; the Declaration, easy and graceful: there are, however, in our opinion, two decided failures in the volume, which, for the credit of the artists, had better been omitted. Our present notices of the literary department must be confined to the following selection:

THE CITY OF THE DEMONS

By William Maginn, Esq.

In days of yore, there lived in the flourishing city of Cairo, a Hebrew Rabbi, by name Jochorian, who was the most learned of his nation. His fame went over the East, and the most distant people sent their young men to imbibe wisdom from his lips. He was deeply skilled in the traditions of the fathers, and his word on a disputed point was decisive. He was pious, just, temperate, and strict; but he had one vice—a love of gold had seized upon his heart, and he opened not his hand to the poor. Yet he was wealthy above most, his wisdom being to him the source of riches. The Hebrews of the city were grieved at this blemish on the wisest of their people; but though the elders of the tribes continued to reverence him for his fame, the women and children of Cairo called him by no other name than that of Rabbi Jochonan the miser.

None knew, so well as he, the ceremonies necessary for initiation into the religion of Moses; and, consequently, the exercise of those solemn offices was to him another source of gain. One day, as he walked in the fields about Cairo, conversing with a youth on the interpretation of the law, it so happened, that the angel of death smote the young man suddenly, and he fell dead before the feet of the Rabbi, even while he was yet speaking. When the Rabbi found that the youth was dead, he rent his garments, and glorified the Lord. But his heart was touched, and the thoughts of death troubled him in the visions of the night. He felt uneasy when he reflected on his hardness to the poor, and he said, "Blessed be the name of the Lord! The first good thing that I am asked to do in that holy name, will I perform."—But he sighed, for he feared that some one might ask of him a portion of his gold.

While yet he thought upon these things, there came a loud cry at his gate.

"Awake, thou sleeper!" said the voice; "Awake! A child is in danger of death, and the mother hath sent me for thee that thou may'st do thine office."

"The night is dark and gloomy," said the Rabbi, coming to his casement, "and mine age is great; are there not younger men than I in Cairo?"

"For thee only, Rabbi Jochonan, whom some call the wise, but whom others call Rabbi Jochonan the miser, was I sent. Here is gold," said he, taking out a purse of sequins—"I want not thy labour for nothing. I adjure thee to come, in the name of the living God."

So the Rabbi thought upon the vow he had just made, and he groaned in spirit, for the purse sounded heavy.

"As thou hast adjured me by that name, I go with thee," said he to the man, "but I hope the distance is not far. Put up thy gold."

"The place is at hand," said the stranger, who was a gallant youth, in magnificent attire. "Be speedy, for time presses."

Jochonan arose, dressed himself, and accompanied the stranger, after having carefully locked up all the doors of his house, and deposited his keys in a secret place—at which the stranger smiled.

"I never remember," said the Rabbi, "so dark a night. Be thou to me as a guide, for I can hardly see the way."

"I know it well," replied the stranger with a sigh, "it is a way much frequented, and travelled hourly by many; lean upon mine arm and fear not."

They journeyed on; and though the darkness was great, yet the Rabbi could see, when it occasionally brightened, that he was in a place strange to him. "I thought," said he, "I knew all the country for leagues about Cairo, yet I know not where I am. I hope, young man," said he to his companion, "that thou hast not missed the way;" and his heart misgave him.

"Fear not," returned the stranger. "Your journey is even now done," and, as he spoke, the feet of the Rabbi slipped from under him, and he rolled down a great height. When he recovered, he found that his companion had fallen also, and stood by his side.

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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 288, Supplementary Number

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Various The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction / Volume 10, No. 288, Supplementary Number

SPIRIT OF "THE ANNUALS" FOR 1828

Hock—Champagne, (Still and Sparkling.)

L.E.L

Hood

Bucellas

Miss Mitford

Bernard Barton

Lacrymae Christi

Mrs. Hemans

Watts

Delta

Port

Coleridge

Southey

Claret

Montgomery,

THE LITERARY SOUVENIR

ANCIENT SONG OF VICTORY

BY MRS. HEMANS

BYRON

THE CITY OF THE DEMONS

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