Cornwall's last. They are not juven ile efforts, for there is no effort in them. We may well conceive them to have been the reflection given by the serene bosom of a poet to the glorious skies of the past Summer. The sympathy excited by the pathos of some is unmixed with pain, and the smiles which we cannot withhold from the wit of others, are free from unpleasant associations. The Sicilian Story is the same with A story (still believed thro' Sicily) conviction of the extreme rashness which poets, deservedly celebrated in the epic, the descriptive, or the lyric, betray when they attempt to impersonate their thoughts and feelings, is the result of a pretty extensive induction. Mr Cornwall seems content with his former passage through the perilous ordeal, for there is but one dramatic sketch in the present volume, and we shall soon enable our readers to determine if his capability to secure a further acquittal continues unimpaired. There is, however, even in this collection of tales, much of that excellence which is indispensable in a drama, and it may be, to excess. Our author's imagination, as has been poetically said, "hovers over his subject like a dove;" he is ever engaged in unravelling the story's thread, beautiful, indeed, with "skiey colourings," from the brightest and most delicate tincture, to the most sombre die, (Ungrateful he to work her such annoy,) which clots the yarn of human life; But time hath, as in sad requital, given and we are not permitted to turn, A branch of laurel to her, and some bard for an instant, from the theme which Swears that a heathen god or goddess gave is set before us. The language of the Her swanlike wings wherewith to fly to speakers may be fraught with image And now, at times, when gloomy tempests ry; their persons are not single in the prominence of sculpture,-yet seduced, perhaps, by the really wonderful fluency and harmony of both thought and expression, admitting not the shadowy dreams which start up through the chasms of abrupter verse, we submit, throughout, to the mas tery of dramatic interest. This may be the great spell, without which a play is impotent; and Mr Cornwall deserves much for its introduction, though rather too unsparingly, into other modes of composition. He should bear in mind, that some space ought to be left for the reader's own "shaping spirit of imagination," and to this he sets limits, when he clothes the passions and abstractions of the mind in the vesture of allegory. We can then only passively receive the fruits and flowers, which, we confess, he is ever ready to press upon us; but, if we are not permitted to intertwine a few leaves of our own gathering, the beauty of the whole is imperfect. We speak this more in warning than in judgment, for Mr Cornwall has as yet betrayed glimpses only of this monopolizing spirit. The longer poems in the present collection appear to have been composed since the publication of Mr Heaven. war Along the Adriatic, in the wave shore Sings as the loyc-craz'd Sappho sung of yore. p. 7. We have so loitered at the outset, that we cannot stop to admire by the way. The following description of Guido, the lover of the tale, we are confident, our readers will receive as worthy to give them pause. He had that look which poets love to And artists fashion, in their happier mood, paint, And budding girls when first their dreamShow them such forms as maids may love. ings faint He stood tears, And recollections came of happier years, Thronging from all the cells of memory. All her heart's follies she remembered then, How coy and rash,-how scornful she had been, And then how tender, and how coy again, And every shifting of the burning scene That sorrow stamps upon the helpless brain. p. 22. The truth and fitness of the epithet in the last line will not, we hope, cause the mastery which placed it there to be overlooked. The murderer removes the buried relic of his victim, and That day the green tree withered, and she knew The solace of her mind was stolen and gone; And then she felt that she was quite alone Thunder unto the silent air, she flew, All that around the beating heart is twined; One quivering drop arose and dimm'd her sight, The last that frenzy gave to poor distress. And in the solitude she found a cave gave Of pow'r and death a token and a sign; And there she lived for months: She did not heed The seasons or their change, and she would feed On roots and berries, as the creatures fed Which had in woods been born and nourished. p. 24. The death of Acis is the versification of a tale still better known than the Pot of Basil. The opening lines will show how beautifully Mr Cornwall can retouch a Greek painting; and, but that he can be busied with higher tasks, we should wish him to wipe off the dust from many more of the graceful, though somewhat faded, fables of antiquity. Peerless on earth, and like those forms of old, Pallas, or dark-eyed Juno, or the queen Who won the fruit on Ida, sate the sea nymph, Proud Galatea: till, at last, she raised Her arm and twined it round her lover's neck, And in the gentlest music ask'd him then, Why and how much he lov'd, and if he thought "Twas strange that she, a high sea nymph, should leave Her watery palaces and coral caves, Her home, and all immortal company, To dwell with him, a simple shepherd boy. p. 63. We shall conclude with an extract from The Falcon, a dramatic sketch, and, in our opinion, more happily executed than any thing in the book. Mr Cornwall has here versified another of Boccacio's tales,-that is, he has removed one of those stories, (which, to use his own words, " bring man to a true and fine humanity,") from unfavouring gloom into the crystal sphere of poetry, where its deep beauty is displayed to all. The Falcon is killed by his master, an Italian gentleman of decayed fortune, for the purpose of feasting a lady whose hand he had formerly aspired to, upon her visiting him unexpectedly. She is struck with the devotion of the act, and may well make it the ostensible occasion for her to offer him her hand and heart. Fred. What can I say? Gia. Nothing; I read your heart. Fred. It bursts, my love; but 'tis with joy, with joy. Giana, my Giana, we will have Nothing but Halcyon days: Oh! we will live As happily as the bees that hive their sweets, And gaily as the summer fly, but wiser: Oh! my own love, divinest, best, I'll be Thy sun of life, faithful through every season, And thou shalt be my flower perennial, Fine as the vaunted nymphs, who, poets feigned, Dwelt long ago in woods of Arcady. How friendly will we pass our lives together, And wander heart-linked through the busy world, Like birds in Eastern story! Gia. Oh! you rave. Fred. I'll be a miser of thee, watch thee But I may worship thee in silence still. Gia. The evening's dark; now I must go. Farewell Until to-morrow. Fred. Oh! not yet, not yet. Behold! the moon is up, the bright-eyed moon, And seems to shed her soft delicious light On lovers reunited. Why, she smiles, Gia. Farewell. Nay, nay, I must go. Fred. We will go together. ther or no they have left it "to lie on the table," according to our own polite parliamentary phrase, we cannot pretend to say. It had very nearly, however, amongst a quantity of other monthly pamphlets, lain un Gia. It must not be to-night; my ser- read on our humble editorial table; vants wait My coming at the fisher's cottage. Fred. Yet, A few more words, and then I'll part with thee For one long night: to-morrow bid me In thy calm dignity, thy modest sense, This is, indeed, a noble passage. Frederigo is as buoyant a reveller in love and poetry as Fletcher's Elder Brother, who seems nourished with nothing below nectar and ambrosia, and has hitherto stood by himself a solitary creation in his own genus. COLLEGE FOR LADIES. WHILE an ingenious gentleman has been endeavouring to establish in but we think it fair that our readers should be aware of the grand ideas which are opening upon the minds of our Transatlantic brethren, or rather sisters; and we have no doubt, that, if the plan should take effect in America, we shall have, in a year or two, a splendid college opened for our own dear Edinburgh misses, who, we humbly think, may be much better employed in such a seminary, than in parading Prince's Street, or spending their morning hours on waltzes and quadrilles. A very happy notion has struck us, that this would be an excellent use to put the Parthenon to, when that noble classical edifice is erected, as it unquestionably will be, on the Calton Hill. In the first place, the name would suit, being derived from the Greek for a virgin. Then the situation would be admirable. What can be more advisable for our town beauties, than an early walk to the Calton Hill? They must, absolutely, have an hour at college before breakfast. And then, notwithstanding the opinion of our excellent correspondent in our last number, we cannot but think that so many lovely living forms, seated or peripatetic in that grand hall of Minerva, each with the serious and attentive air of the Goddess of Wisdom herself, would be a much more glorious population for our National Monument, than the cold marble effigies of all the heroes, sages, and poets whom Scotland ever produced, even though chiselled by the hands of a Chantry or a Canova. But we shall, city, we know not with what s without farther preamble, introduce Milton's magnificent platform of education, a lady has been suggesting something of the same kind in America, for the benefit of her own sex. Her name is Emma Willard, who last year put forth " An Address to the Public, (particularly) to the Members of the Legislature of New York, proposing Plan for improving Female Education." We are informed that her tractate has been respectfully received by the Legislature to which it is addressed. Whe our readers to Miss Willard, for whose statue, indeed, along with that of Mrs Wolstonecroft, we must have a niche in our Parthenon, as the presiding deities of the temple. Who knows, if Miss Emma does not meet with encouragement in America, but that she may be bribed over here, in her own person, to set our institution a-going? All these we throw out as loose ideas for the consideration of the Committee; but, as we said before, Miss Emma shall now speak for her 10 self, or rather, as she is a Republi- "The object of this address is to convince the public, that a reform, with respect to female education, is necessary; that it cannot be effected by an individual exertion, but that it requires the aid of the legislature: and further, by shewing the justice, the policy, and the magnanimity of such an undertaking, to persuade that body to endow a seminary for females, as the commencement of such reformation. "The idea of a college for males will naturally be associated with that of a seminary, instituted and endowed by the public; and the absurdity of sending ladies to college may, at first thought, strike every one, to whom this subject shall be proposed. I therefore hasten to observe, that the seminary here recommended will be as different from those appropriated to the other sex, as the female character and duties are from the male. The business of the husbandman is not to waste his endeavours in seeking to make his orchard attain the strength and majesty of his forest, but to rear each to the perfection of its nature. "That the improvement of female education will be considered by our enlightened citizens as a subject of importance, the liberality with which they part with their property to educate their daughters, is a sufficient evidence; and why should they not, when assembled in the legislature, act in concert to affect a noble object, which, though dear to them, individually, cannot be accomplished by their unconnected ex ertions? "If the improvement of the American female character, and that alone, could be effected by public liberality, employed in giving better means of instruction, such improvement of one half of society, and that half which barbarous and despotic nations have ever degraded, would of itself be an object worthy of the most liberal vernment on earth; but if the female character be raised, it must inevitably raise that of the other sex: and thus does the plan proposed, offer as the object of legislative bounty, to elevate the whole character of the community. go "As evidence that this statement does not exaggerate the female influence in society, our sex need but be considered in In this the single relation of mothers. character, we have the charge of the whole mass of individuals, who are to compose the succeeding generation; during that period of youth, when the pliant mind takes any direction, to which a forming VOL. VI. hand steadily guides How Important a power is given by this charge! yet, little do too many of my sex know how either to appreciate or improve it. Unprovided with the means of acquiring that knowledge, which flows liberally to the other sex, having our time of education devoted to frivolous acquirements, how should we understand the nature of the mind so as to be aware of the importance of those early impressions which we make upon the minds of our children; or how should we be able to form enlarged and correct views, either of the character, to which we ought to mould them, or of the means most proper to form them aright? "Considered in this point of view, were the interests of male education alone to be consulted, that of females becomes of sufficient importance to engage the public attention. Would we rear the human plant to its perfection, we must first fertilize the soil which produces it. If it acquire its first bent and texture upon a barren plain, it will avail comparatively little, should it be afterwards transplanted to a garden. "In the arrangement of my remarks, I shall pursue the following order: 66 I. Treat of the defects of the present mode of female education, and their causes. "II. Consider the principles by which education should be regulated. "III. Sketch a plan of a female seminary. IV. Shew the benefits which society would receive from such seminaries." pp. 3-5. We pass over Miss Willard's two first heads, and come to the third, as the only one which has any novelty. She tells us, indeed, under the second, speaking of the sons of rich families, that "while their sisters are gliding through the mazes of the midnight dance, they employ the lamp to treasure up for future use the riches of ancient wisdom, or to gather strength and expansion of mind in exploring the wonderful paths of philosophy." This is quite a new view of things. By the construction of the sentence, it seems to be her opinion, that the same lamp which is lighting the girls in the dance, is assisting the studies of the youths, or that in our ball rooms, all the beaux are sitting in corners studying Newton's Principia, while the belles, as a fine experimental accompaniment, are exhibiting a living orrery before them, or imitating the solar system in the mazes of Alas! alas! we suspect the dance. the masters know quite as little about ве |