« ZurückWeiter »
• There is an impulse, bidding us break through
Our prison's bounds : a world before us lies, Gladdened with glories, fascinating, new,
And fragrant How'rs and lovely fantasies :
Its noble destiny and high emprise
Crushing all disappointinents 'neath its feet. • The spirit feels its dignity of birth
And destination, in the mighty strife
It bends not to the yoke of mortal life,
In worldly luxury-in aspirings rife
To heights which o'er heaven's highest torches rise. • It clads itself in purple like the morn's,
And walks in its imperial dignity-
The very dreamings which around us lie-
Th’infirmities of human destiny, Pointing to hope's own pyramid sublimeA watch-tower o'er the waves and storms of time. • First, youth's pure love develops the high source
Of intellect within him-gives it wings Heavenward to urge its passion-prompted course.
While to his breast the lovely loved-one clings, Into one maddening moment is the force
Of all existence fung- and angel-wings
And when we die, we sleep—we toil, we rest: The visions of life's morning-twilight fly
Grief cools the life-blood boiling in our breastThe buds are blown away—the fruit is nigh —
And man by time's strong urgency is press’d. On, on to labour-duty must be heard ;
She speaks in majesty the mighty word, "“Country!”—the invaders on her bosom tread:
Up to the field-he stands among the brave ; His cheeks with freedom's roseate glow are red,
And he is there to sink, or there to save.
Is his-indifferent if a hero's grave
• Trembles? He trembles as the granite trembles,
Lashed by the waves ; for the courageous heart
Which snap or spurn away the sharpest dart.
And health and bliss are labour's better part ;
Friendship-and tenderness for children-blend,
Flings radiance on the soul, and leads it on,
Stretching for higher recompense. Anon
On that which is their kindred, and hath won
Through the world's darkness and its own dark night.
So fades our little lamp--and so we fade.
And midnight mantle darkness round our head-
Fill up our hearts with ashes of the dead-
While solitude puts out her frozen hand
Which ignorance has called the promised land,
Clouding around that superhuman band
And rears green altars over mouldering graves. eeze
It may be—nay! it is—a sleep as sweet
As ever infant slept. 'Tis more: to hope
For mortals: there is an eternal scope
We greet a resurrection-and we ope
pp. 247--251. he • Hungarian Popular Songs,' are not likely to be ever tread: ular in England ; and if we extract a few of them, it is rather
rave; the purpose of shewing how little they were worth the trouble = red, ranslation. Here we have a dancing song.
* Aching, quaking, tottering, shaking,
Half transported, half afraid ;
Stretch I out my arms, while she
Sees my knees sink under me:
Half transported, half afraid.
Like a magpie skip I round;
Trembling, just as tremble these :
Like a magpie skip I round.
Still I dance in joy and fear ;
More concern than love can beal :
O the grievous burden here !
I must throw my nadrág off ;*
Dancing dances gay as these :t
I must throw my nadrág off.
Hasznos Mulatságok, No. XL. p. 301, 1819.?—pp. 226, 227, The following picture of a bride, is, we hope, not very generally applicable to the Magyar ladies:- .
• I got me a bride-ah! I got me a bride,
* Hadd repedjen a' szük nadrág- I must tear off my garments. + Vigán kozakost tánczolva.
« « Thou sconndrel! thou vagabond ! wench-hunting knave !"
This, this was the welcome the evil one gave;
But why, while on earth, am I driven to hell ?-pp.267, 268. We must now take leave of the Doctor, and when next we meet him, which we suppose will be in about another year, we hope that the Holy Roman Empire will have enabled him to stand forth as Sir John Bowring. This is now the only title he wants, in order to legitimatize the various claims which he has to distinction.
or hvidual, whexertions. ic service,
Art. IX.— The Life of Major-General Sir Thomas Munro, Bart., and
K.C.B., Late Governor of Madras. With extracts from his Correspondence and Private Papers. By the Rev. George Gleig, M.A., M.R.S.L., &c. In two volumes 8vo. London: Colburn and Bentley.
1830. The Life of Sir Thomas Munro, though not illustrated by brilliant achievements, is one that ought to be read and studied by every man who enters the public service, particularly if India is to be the sphere of his exertions. It exhibits the animating example of an individual, who, without family connections, without patronage or fortune, rose, by his own unwearied industry and practical talents, from the station of a Cadet, to that of Governor of one of our most important Indian provinces. He was elevated, too, in almost every instance, from one step to another, without any solicitation of his own, and indebted for his honours solely to the fitness which he displayed for office, and to the success with which he discharged the functions that were successively committed to his care.
The son of a respectable merchant at Glasgow, he was born in that city on the 27ih of May, 1761, and in its Grammar School received the rudiments of his education. Even in his youth, he had a character for cleverness, though not for industry; his frame was robust, and his addiction to all the manly exercises rendered him the leader of every enterprise in which his schoolcompanions ventured to engage. His disposition, open, generous, and cheerful, combined with his other qualities, secured to him the esteem of every body with whom he came in contact. From the Grammar School he passed to the Glasgow University, where he studied mathematics and chemistry, a science to which he continued, to his latest hour, to be remarkably attached, though he had no means of pursuing it. His private occupations, while at the University, when not engaged in boxing, wrestling, running, leaping, throwing stones, or swimming, were literary. Robinson Crusoe, the Lives of the Buccaneers, and Anson’s Voyages, were, next to Don Quixote, his greatest favourites. So fond was he of the work of Cervantes, that he taught himself Spanish, at the age of sixteen, in order that he might the more thoroughly feel the beauties of that immortal tale. From these he proceeded to historical literature, evincing, however, from the first, a decidedly military turn, and always retaining and fostering a romantic enthusiasm, which sheds a charm upon his whole life.
From the most unsettled parts of India, and in the midst of the most laborious employments, he osten looked back with delight upon the hours which he spent at Northwoodside, a villa near Glasgow, once rented by his father. The garden overbung the bed of the Kelvin, and commanded a delightful view of the wooded and broken banks which girdle in that romantic stream ; whilst, not far removed, was a pool, or mill-dam, known by the name of Jackson's dam, and frequently referred to in the following correspondence. Keenly and sensitively alive to every thing grand or beautiful in nature, young Munro appeared to enter upon another state of being, as often as he visited Northwoodside. If he read, it was when seated upon a rustic bench, which stood beneath a tall tree in the garden, or perched among the highest branches of the tree itself. If a fit of idleness took him, he indulged it by rambling, sometimes from sunrise till nightfall, among the woods; or he would fish the Kelvin with his brothers or companions; and, when weary of that amusement, would refresh himself by swimming in the dam. These scenes he often re-visited in imagination, when separated from them by thousands of miles; they were the sunshine of bis soul.
Young Munro, having been originally destined by his father for a mercantile life, was placed in a counting house, in which, bowever, he spent only two years. The events which took place in America, in 1778 and 1779, produced a disastrous effect upon many mercantile establishments, and, among others, compelled that of his father to stop payment. The lad had, therefore, 10 seek his fortune, and India being then the land of promise, particularly for the Scotch, who seem to have almost made it their own, the appointment of a midshipınan, on board the Company's ship Walpole, was obtained for him. He left home on the 20th of February, 1779, to join his ship; but he had scarcely taken possession of his berth, when his character as midsbipman was exchanged for that of a cadet, through the good offices of one of the Directors who was acquainted with his father. Soon after his arrival in India, the commencement of the war with Hyder Ally opened at once a field for his enterprise. He was appointed an ensign, and was engaged actively in the field during the whole of that period, so critical in our Indian annals. It is not our intention to go through the military operations to which that war gave rise. It will be sufficient to state, in the words of Mr. Gleig, that Mr. Munro