Part of the 2d Volume. Six sheets in 4to, with six cuts. 25. Collection, &c. Collection of the best works written in the French language, inscribed to the amateurs of elegant typography, and of accurate editions. Vol. XXXV. and XXXVI., including the Thoughts of Blaise Pascal, Vol. I. and II. (To be continued.) Printed for and by P. Didot, Senior. Price in boards, 9 francs, ditto fine paper, 15 f.; ditto super. vellum, 30 f.. 26. Correspondence Politiques et Administrative, &c. Political and Administrative Correspondence, by J Fiévée, 8th Part. One small octavo volume. M. Fiévée is undoubtedly one of the best political writers at present living in France. Seyen numbers of his correspondence have been published in the last two years and a half, all of which have created a high interest in those ranks of society where political questions are a customary topic of discourse. M. F.'s style is full of energy, and remarkably sarcastic. No wonder therefore that his publications have procured him numerous enemies. But it must be owned, his talents are not the only eause of the enmity his works have excited against him. He is not without a considerable portion of vanity; and his pamphlets, though seldom containing more than six or seven sheets of print, are never free from his own personal praise. In M. F.'s opinion, M. F. might be the best deputy, the best peer, the best minister pos, sible, and still M. F. disdains being either minister, peer, or deputy. When a man shows such high wrought pride, he seldom persuades others; and his best reasonings, though founded on the firmest basis of truth, hardly ever succeed in making con Verts. The eighth number of his work contains two supposed letters to a friend in England on the late elections. The author has drawn a very able picture of the present state of parties in France. The royalists, he says, though numerous, being without the spirit of intrigue, play a very small part in the political world, which is divided between the ministerial and independent parties. The latter is what was formerly called the revolutionary. The ministerials will, soon or late, unite with the independents, and then attribute the misfortune of France to the obstinacy of the royalists. A short time before the election began, a novel was published, called the Farmer and the Nobleman. This work was full of revolutionary principles, and intended to level all distinction of ranks. M. F. asks, why the nobility are constantly a butt to attacks in a monarchy, whereof that same nobility form a constitutional part, and where the king daily creates new dukes, marquisses, counts, or barons. The inthrow an odium or a ridicule upon one of tention of government can hardly be to its fundamental institutions. And M. F. concludes very rightly, we imagine, by saying to government; either abolish nobility, or take care that your nobility be respected. The nobles, perhaps you will say, show high pretensions, and threaten to overthrow the constitution. But that argument cannot hold, after recollecting that the nobility are no more, as formerly, a body, and that a nobleman has no other influence than what his personal riches can give him. At present in France, a Montmorency, if deprived of 3000 fr. landed income, cannot become a deputy, and has, in fact, less influence than the rich farmer, his neighbour. This consideration leads M. F. to ano ther of high importance. The peerage is the body representing the aristocratical power: its influence ought to be great enough to balance the favours of the court, and the independent principles of the deputies. Many peers, however, have not even the means to keep a coach; 10,000 francs a-year is the income fixed for a baron. A peer of Great Britain would cut but a sorry figure with L. 400 a-year. The consequence of the want of landed property in the Chamber of Peers, and the democratical spirit of the late election law, have already had one natural consequence: we mean, that in the last elections, the monied men have had a decided advantage over the landholders; and this, which, according to M. F. would be unfortunate in all countries, is still more so in France, where commerce is only a secondary interest. M. F. states, not without foundation, that the man whose property is all in money, must naturally feel less interested in the prosperity of his country than the landholder, whose private happiness is attached to the soil. direct which way he pleases the public opinion of his department ?" 27. Histoire du Compte Roderico de W &c. W The History of Count Roderico de prime-minister at the Court of S *; to which is added, The Young Fruit Gardener of the Lake of Toux, and the Siege of Granson, an historical novel of the 15th century, by Madame La Baronne de Montolieu. 1 vol. 12mo. 28. Memoire sur la guerre de la Vendée, in 1815, &c. Memoirs of the War in the Ven dée in 1815, by the Baron de Canuel, Lieutenant-General of the Royal armies. With a map of the Theatre of the War, and a Portrait of the Marquis de la Roche Jaquelein. 1 vol. 8vo. 29. Des Libertés, &c. On the Liberties of the Gallican Church, &c. by D. Baillet, one of the Librarians of the Library of Versailles. (Pamphlet.) 30. Appreciation, &c. The project of a Law concerning the three Concordats appreciated; by J. D. Lanjuinais, Peer of France. (Pamphlet.) 31. Essai sur l'Indifférence, &c. Essay on Indifference in matters of Religion, vol. 1. (To be continued.) 32. La Revélation prouvée par elle même, &c. Revelation proved by itself; a work intended to penetrate young people with the truths of the Christian doctrine, and to prevent their falling into irreligion. (Pamphlet.) &e. 33. Les Conversations Maternelles, Maternal Conversations, by Madame Dufresnoy. 2 vols. 18mo. 34. Euvres de F. G. J. S. Andrieux, &c. the author appearing to be a wish to prove that an actress is not an unfit match for a nobleman. M. A.'s fugitive poems are agreeable and fluent compositions. This is the first time that his works have been published collectively. 35. Histoire des Républiques Italiennes, &c. A history of the Italian Republics of the middle ages; by C. L. Sismonde de Sismondi. Vols. XII. XIII. and XIV. Svo. (To be continued.) 36. Histoire des guerres du Vivarais, &c. The History of the wars in Vivain favour of the Royal cause, from the rais and the neighbouring Provinces, Establishment of the camp at Tales in 1790, to 1816; by Andéol Vincent, &c. 1 vol. 8vo. 41. Les Folies du Siècle, &c. The Follies of the Age, a philosophical Novel. 1 vol. 8vo. This novel is not so much a philosophical as a political work, chiefly intended to flatter the ministry, and to shew that the plans followed by the present ministers are the best and the wisest possible. The au thor, who has not thought fit to put his name on the title page, supposes a young man returned from his travels, with high flown German ideas; his family, honest citizens of Paris, unable to understand him, at last believe that he has lost his senses; The works of F. G. J. S. Andrieux, and, by the advice of the family doctor, with cuts. 3 vols. 8vo. M. A. is a very agreeable poet and theatrical writer. His best comedy is called Les Etourdis, (The Wild Young Man.) He has also composed one called The Old Fop; the principal character and chief scene of which are taken from the English comedy of The Clandestine Marriage. Last year, M. A. gave a piece called The Actress; very ably written, but of a rather immoral tendency: The intention of his father leads him to a private madhouse. There he finds several lunatics, which gives the author an opportunity of painting the different parties which divide France at the present moment. The style of this work works read more fluently. It is a pity is remarkably agreeable and witty. Few that the author has not shown a more independent spirit, which might have given a great interest and much piquant to his tale. Paris, January 5, 1818. ORIGINAL POETRY. ORIGINAL POETRY BY BURNS. [The following unpublished reliques of our immortal Bard were lately communicated to us from a highly respectable quarter. We quote one short passage from the very obliging letter that accompanied them: As every thing that fell from the pen of Burns is worthy of preservation, I transcribe for your Miscellany the complete copy of a song which Cromek has printed, (page 423 of his vol.) in an unfinished state,-together with two fragments that have never yet been published. The originals of these I possess in the handwriting of their unfortunate Author, who transmitted them inclosed in letters to a constant friend of his through all his calamities, by whom they were finally assigned to me."] SONG. Here's to them that's awa. Here's a health to them that's awa, cause, May never good luck be their fa'! Here's a health to them that's awa, Here's Maitland, and Wycombe, and wha does na like 'em, Be built in a hole o' the wa'! Here's timmer that's red at the heart, Be turned to the back o' the door. Though bred amang mountains o' snaw. FRAGMENT 1st. Tune-" The tither morn as I forlorn." YON wandering rill that marks the hill, And glances o'er the brae, Sir, Slides by a bower, where many a flower Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir; There Damon lay, with Sylvia gay, To love they thought nae crime, Sir; The wild-birds sang, the echoes rang, While Damon's heart beat time, Sir. FRAGMENT 2d. Here's a health to Charlie the chief o As I cam in by our gate-end, the clan, Although that his band be but sma'! May Liberty meet wi' success, May Prudence protect her frae evil; May tyrants and tyranny tine in the mist, And wander the road to the devil. Here's a health to them that's awa, An' here's to them that's awa; As day was waxen weary, O wha cam tripping down the street Her air sae sweet, and shape complete, Wi' nae proportion wanting, The queen of love did never move Wi' motion mair enchanting. Wi' linked hands, we took the sands Adown yon winding river; Here's a health to Tammie + the Norlan And, oh! that hour, and broomy bower, laddie, Can I forget it ever!— No!-thus it ne'er shall be: and fame Ordains to thee a brighter lot; While earth-while hope endures, thy name, Pure-high-unchangeable-the same→→→ Shall never be forgot; 'Tis shrined amid the holy throng; Yes!-Campbell of the deathless lay, To make the earth by freemen trod, And thou wert one of these; 'twas thine, A myrtle wreathe was on thy blade, Which broke before its cause was won!Thou, to no sordid fears betrayed, Mid desolation undismayed, Wert mighty, though undone; No terrors gloomed thy closing scene, In danger and in death serene! Though thou hast bade our world fare- And left the blotted lands beneath, ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE. On! life is but the bubble That bursts upon the stream, The phantom of a trouble That haunts a sick man's dream. An hour of hard mischances, A lazar house of sin, The bitterest waters flow. May soonest tempt the eye. In the sight of a pure father Is virtue's talisman. Our Charlotte's heart was warm; Her soul escap'd from harm. Where nature is most drear, Lay couch'd on the cold earth. Bade bless the Royal Maid. They could not find at home. In the same genial zone, The rainbow in its beauty, Oh! woe unto our Isle, The poor man's promis'd queen. The golden age again, The theme of proudest story Had been our Charlotte's reign. To measure future kings, No yoke but love to bear, Had flourished free and fair. In peril's hour so strong. To woes she counts her own, Yet there is many a danger That she must meet alone. Oh yes there is a season Of hopes, and loves, and fears, In its result the reason Of blessedness or tears. Of beauty and of health. Oh! woe for the lov'd lady, Her hopes were at the height; She ween'd that fate was ready To give a king to light. Alas! the sad disaster, The grave became her throne, Yet on her heart's last gleaming When all but pain had fled. That fell so fast around. Ten hundred thousand mothers Had watch'd beside her bed; Ten hundred thousand fathers Have wept the lady dead. THE POOR MAN'S LABOUR. (By the late John Philpot Curran.) My mother sigh'd-the stream of pain Flow'd fast and chilly o'er her brow; My father pray'd, nor pray'd in vainSweet mercy cast a glance below! Mine husband dear, the sufferer cried, My pains are o'er; behold your son! Thank heaven, sweet partner, he replied, The poor boy's labour's then begun. Alas! the hapless life she gave, By fate was doom'd, to cost her own, For, soon she met an early grave, Nor stay'd her partner long alone. They left their orphan, here below, A stranger wild, beneath the sun, This lesson sad, to learn, from woeThe poor man's labour's never done. No friendly voice, of pious care, My childhood's devious steps to guide, Or bid my vent'rous youth, beware, The griefs, that smote, on every side; Still, 'twas a changing round of woe, Woe, never ending, still begun, That taught my bleeding heart, to know, The poor man's labour's never done. Soon dies the fault'ring voice of fame, The vows of love, too warm to last, And friendship! what a faithless dream! And wealth's! how soon the glare is past! But sure, one hope remains to save; The longest course must soon be run, And, in the shelter of the grave, The poor man's labour must be done. |