IX. 'Tis sweet on this most solemn scene to gazeThere is deep beauty in a winter night MR. GOLIGHTLY. 'Tis sweeter far to see the coal-fire blaze, MR. ROWLEY. And oh! with what delight, When the brain flags, our craving stomachs hail Fat oysters! MR. O'CONNOR. Whiskey punch!! SIR T. NESBIT. And humming ale!!! X. MR. ROWLEY. People may talk as warmly as they please Of true love's joys-they can't compare with this. Gerard and Fred. may prate, upon their knees, About the raptures of a lady's kiss— MR. STERLING. I never kiss young ladies--joys like these MR. ROWLEY. Don't suit the notions that I've form'd of bliss: XI. All hail! thou Monarch of the smiling board, Most dainty victor!—thus I do adore thee. XII. Hail! ye inferior, yet delightful dishes, In you are centred all my earthly wishes, 'Midst you, methinks, 't were happiness to die! Hail! cod and oyster-sauce!-quail!-partridge!-bustard! Lobster!-plumb-pudding!-apple-pie !-and custard! XIII. No more-no more- -I've fifty more to mention, Yet to pass thee would merit reprehension, Thou best and biggest, most beloved plumb-cake! I understand it is the King's intention * A most superb one for Twelfth Night to bake; Therefore, my Muse, repress thine ill-timed haste,— I'll not describe it till I know its taste. XIV. MR. COURTENAY. Well, then, adieu until again we meet, A merry Christmas, gallants, to you all!- But don't forget th' ETONIAN-I repeat This maxim-for its wisdom is not small, Hunt, drink, shoot, dance; be merry while you may,— ON THE PRACTICAL ASYNDETON. "Nil fuit unquam Tam dispar sibi."-HOR. THE Treatise on the Practical Bathos which appeared in our first Number, and which we have the vanity to hope is not entirely blotted out from the recollection of * Marvel not, reader, that the King of Clubs should make twelfthcake at Christmas. Did not the Queen of Hearts make tarts at Mid summer? "The Queen of Hearts She made some tarts, All on a summer day."-R. H. our readers, was intended as the first of a series of Dissertations, in which we design to apply the beauties of the figures of the Grammarians to the purposes of real life. We are very strongly tempted to pursue this design, when we reflect upon the advantages which have already been the result of the abovementioned Treatise. We are assured, from the most indisputable authority, that the number of the specimens of that most admirable figure exhibited by our schoolfellows in the exercises of the ensuing week was without precedent in the Annals of Etonian Literature. We have no doubt but those apt scholars who have so readily profited by our recommendation of the Bathos, as far as regards Composition, will, at no very distant period, make the same use of this inestimable figure in the regulation of their Disposition. But it is time to quit this topic, and to enter upon the second of our proposed series; "a Treatise on the Practical Asyndeton.” First, then, as in duty and in gallantry bound, we must construe this hard word. The figure Asyndeton, in Grammar, is that by which conjunctions are omitted, and an unconnected appearance given to the sentence, which is frequently inexpressibly beautiful. Who is there of our rising orators who has not glowed with all the inspiration of a Roman, when Fancy echoes in his ears the brief, the unconnected, and energetic thunders of the Consul, Abiit, excessit, evasit, erupit?" What reader of tragedy does not sympathize with the Orosmane of Voltaire, when, upon the receipt of the billet from Zayre, his anxiety bursts out in those beautifully unconnected expressions, 66 "Donne !-qui la porte ?—donne !" The use of connecting particles in either of these cases would have ruined every thing. They would have destroyed the majesty of Cicero, and reduced to the level of an every-day Novelist the simple tenderness of Orosmane. The use of this figure, however, is not confined to particular sentences or expressions. It sometimes pervades the five Acts of what is miscalled a Regular Drama, or spreads an uncertain transparent gleam over the otherwise insupportable sameness of some inexplicable Epic. Numberless are the writers who have been indebted to its assistance; but our own, our immortal countryman, Shakspeare, preserves an undisputed station at the head of the list. Fettered by no imitation, but the imitation of Nature; bound down to no rules but the vivid conceptions of an untutored, self-working genius,―he hurries us from place to place with the velocity of a torrent; we appear to be carried on by a rushing stream, which conveys our boat so rapidly in its eddies, that we pass through a thousand scenes, and are unable to observe for a moment the abruptness with which the changes are effected. Our modern Farce-writers have, with laudable emulation, followed the example of this great master of the Stage; but, as in their use of this figure they possess the audacity without the genius of the Bard they imitate, they cannot prevent us from perceiving the frequent Asyndeton in place, in plot, or in character. The beauty of the countries to which they introduce us is not such as to withdraw us from the contemplation of the outrageously miraculous manner in which we were transported to them. We have delayed the reader quite long enough with this preliminary discussion, and will now enter at once upon our main subject;-the Asyndeton in Life. We should imagine that few of our readers are ignorant of the charms of novelty; few have lived through their boyhood and their youth without experiencing the disgust which a too frequent repetition of the same pleasure infallibly produces. There is in novelty a charm, the want of which no other qualification can in any degree compenThe most studied viands for the gratification of the. appetite please us when first we enjoy them, but the enjoyment becomes tasteless by repetition, and the " Crambe sate. |