times, where they mean to be respectful; but, when two friends meet cordially, their manner of saluting is still more singular: they lock their right hands fast together, and kiss the back of each other's hand mutually very quick for some minutes."-p. 22.

"The guard-house, which is known by the name of the Sandannar, is near the middle of the town, where an Aga, or captain, is always stationed with a guard. This aga sends a party of soldiers through the town, accompanied by a pack of dogs in a starved state, who save the men the trouble of pursuing the people they wish to apprehend; for, with a word, the dogs rush forward, seize the unfortunate victim, and keep him pinioned to the ground till the guards come up." -p. 25.

"The Moors marry so extremely young, that the mother and her firstborn are often seen together as playmates, equally anxious and angry in an infantine game. The women here are often grandmothers at twenty-six or twenty-seven years of age; it is therefore no wonder they live frequently to see the children of many of their generations. From the melancholy turn of Lilla Halluma's mind at present, she has always some article of her dress in a state to denote deep mourning.

"The Moorish habit for mourning consists only in the clothes being entirely deprived of their new appearance; and the deeper the mourning is meant to be, the more indifferent, and even shabby, the clothes are; therefore, when she orders a new cap, which is so richly embroidered that it is like a solid plate of gold, she never puts it on till it has been passed through water before her, and all the beauty of it destroyed. She weeps over the operation, and her tire-women make extempore verses on the cause of her distress. The rest of her clothes were grand, and she had costly jewels on; a transparent veil of many yards, flowing in graceful drapery, carelessly about her, displayed the whole of her rich dress through it, and her figure was altogether majestic, with the sweetest countenance. The apartment she was in was hung with dark green velvet tapestry, ornamented with coloured silk damask flowers, and sentences out of the Koran were cut in silk letters and neatly sewed on, forming a deep border at the top and bottom; below this, the apartment was finished with tiles, forming landscapes. The sides of the door-way, and the entrance into the room, were marble; and, according to the custom of furnishing here, choice china and chrystal encircled the room on a moulding near the ceiling. Close beneath these ornaments were placed large looking-glasses, with frames of gold and silver; the floor was covered with curious matting and rich carpetting over it; loose mattrasses and cushions placed on the ground, made up in the form of sofas, and covered with velvet, embroidered with gold and silver, served for seats, with Turkey carpets laid before them. The coffee was served up in very small cups of china, placed in gold fillagree cups without saucers, on a solid gold salver, of an uncommon size, richly embossed: this massive waiter was brought in by two slaves, who bore it between them round to each of the company, and these two eunuchs were the richest habited slaves we had yet seen in the castle: they were entirely covered with gold and silver. Refreshments were afterwards served up on low beautiful inlaid tables, not higher than a foot from the ground; amongst the sherbets was fresh pomegranate-juice, passed through the rind of the fruit, which gave it an excellent flavour. After the repast, slaves attended with silver fillagree censers, offering, at the same time, towels with gold ends wove in them nearly half a yard long."-p. 30.

396

ART. XIII.-Ilderim: a Syrian Tale. In four Cantos. pp. 68. Murray. 1816.

THIS poem is written with elegance and good taste. The scene of it is laid in Asia, the rich and beautiful scenery of which affords excellent opportunities for the display of a poet's descriptive powers; and in that species of writing the author of Ilderim excels.. The plan of the poem,' he tells us, was first conceived, and partly executed, in the countries which it attempts to describe.' It is evident, indeed, from the truth of colouring and natural softness with which his landscapes are clothed, that he is well acquainted with the scenes to which they refer.

The poem is in the Spenserian measure: and if good versification can make a good poem, Ilderim' may certainly rank as one. There does not seem to be a defective line or incorrect rhyme in the whole performance. This, however, is not its chief recommendation; it possesses excellencies of a higher order, and is entitled to a conspicuous place among the effusions of our best living poets.

The story, indeed, is far from being new. It bears a resemblance to the story of Dr. Brown's tragedy of Barbarossa, and to that of several of our popular romantic tales. The following stanzas present a soft and beautiful picture.

The pale beam, stealing through the matted trees,

Kist Balbec's walls and stern Abdallagh's tower;
Cool through Abdallagh's garden stream'd the breeze,
Wak'ning each folded leaf and sleeping flower:
Bright was the scene and calm the soothing hour:
Heaven still its blessings shed on earth beneath,

In silent dews that gem'd the verdant bower:
Earth pour'd her thanks in sweets from every wreath,
Freshness was in the air, and life in every breath.
There, in that garden, Eastern art display'd

All that enchants beneath the burning sky;
All that belongs to coolness or to shade;
Hues that enliven, or relieve the eye
Dazzled with light: rich odours that supply
The native sweets that loaded zephyrs bear;
Sounds that refresh with soothing melody;
Yet, matchless nature, in that scene so fair,

Thine were the choicest gifts, though art arrang'd them there.
The Ruler's palace on the North arose :

Long pointed arches, (for, to Arab lore

Its splendours imitative Europe owes,)

There, with high-gadding jasmine mantled o'er
Shadow'd the walls, and stretch'd a screen before:

Whilst at the Western end, an arch'd alcove

(With roof of fretted gold and varied floor)
Invited: thence the wandering eye might rove
O'er all the glittering scene-the buildings and the grove.'

Nor were there wanting to complete the heav'n
Fair houri forms; for through the leafy shade
Two peerless maids, like those to men forgiv'n,
Promis'd in Koran verse, together stray'd;
The one all gladness, radiant, bright array'd,
Rival'd the opening rose, the garden's queen;
Splendid of hue and gorgeously display'd:
The other lovely, but of pensive mien,

More like the lily show'd, of beauty more serene.'

Azza, the former of these ladies, is the daughter of Abdallagh, the usurper of the throne of Balbec. The latter, Elmyra, is the niece of the deposed sovereign. She loves Azza, though the daughter of him who had murdered her uncle, and his son, who was also her lover. They are interrupted in their conversation by the approach of Abdallagh, upon which Elmyra retires. Abdallagh complains to his daughter, that, though he has firmly seated himself on the throne, he is molested by a base-born robber, Ilderim,

Who spares the peasant's humble heritage

But sweeps Abdallagh's wealth, and mocks Abdallagh's rage.' He resolves on the destruction of this depredator, observ ing that the robber's den is pervious to gold;' and accordingly, in the second canto, we find Ilderim and his associates, through the treachery of one of their number, surprised by Abdallagh at the head of his troops. A great number of them are slain, and Mirza, Ilderim's favourite, is made prisoner. Ilderim, by a secret passage, enters the garden of Abdallagh's palace, and carries off his daughter; whom he refuses to give up but upon condition of Mirza's being set at liberty-to which Abdallagh consents. Azza, on her return to the palace, describes to her companion Elmyra the person of the robber who had carried her off:

"O'er his left brow he bears an ancient scar."—

"A scar! and on his brow?"—"Does this surprise!
"Warriors who fight must show the marks of war.
"One thing there was may bid thy wonder rise;
"From forth his breast, before my watchful eyes,

"He drew a rosary, how richly fair!

"Each bead, a flawless pearl of rarest size; "Strange to behold a robber use at prayer

"Such beads as are esteem'd the Sultan's single share, &c.!"'

From this description Elmyra discovers, that the robber, who goes by the name of Ilderim, is no other than Caled, her lover, whom she had long numbered with the dead. She is amazed at what she hears:

Breathless and pale th' exhausted maid became ;

The shock that rais'd her soul had all unhing'd her frame.' As they are about to enter the palace, they discover the summit of Mount Lebanon to be covered with flames.

• Dread sign, when Lebanon is crown'd with flame!
Then Syria knows that, arming for the fight,
The warrior Druses point their levell'd aim :-
Intrepid race! who seiz'd that fortress height,
Resolv'd on liberty, in power's despight:-
Oppression's foes! protectors of th' opprest!

To you the wronged, the helpless, bend their flight,
And find a home, or have their cause redrest:

Ye taste of joy yourselves, and would have others blest.'

The robbers, by some treachery, which is not explained, enter the town, and a dreadful slaughter ensues. Ilderim encounters Abdallagh, who is surprised to behold in him Caled, whom he had long supposed to be dead. Abdallagh falls; and Caled is told that Abdallagh had given orders that, in the event of his death, all the females in the harem should be put to the sword. Thither he bends his steps; and arrives just in time to prevent the slaughter.

Forwards he sprung:-Why starts the victor now?
Now motionless as if by magic stay'd?

Why sits a death-like paleness on his brow?
Why thund'ring falls his all-ungovern'd blade?
Her, her, he sees, his own, his long-lost maid!

It was herself, that living form of light,

Her drooping head on Azza's bosom laid;
Nature had sunk beneath the keen delight

That tried Elmyra's heart when Caled blest her sight.'

Here the story breaks off; and we are left to conjecture what happens in the sequel.

399

ART. XIV.-The Works of HENRY HOWARD, Earl of Surrey, and of SIR THOMAS WYATT, the elder. Edited by GEO. FRED. NOTT, D.D. F.S. A. &c. Two volumes. Quarto. London. 1816.

ALTHOUGH We do not profess to have an equal horror of luxurious printing, and wire-wove paper, and spacious margins, with the author of the Pursuits of Literature, yet we acknowledge that we regarded these symptoms of bookmaking with some alarm, as they were exhibited in the magnificent quartos before us. Our consternation was increased by a closer examination: for though we anticipated memoirs which every body is acquainted with, dissertations which drowsily repeat what has been rung in our ears for half a century, annotations which contain every thing which every body has written, and appendixes which add only to the bulk of the volumes; yet, even in this book-making age, we could not have ventured to expect that, in a volume of nine hundred and sixty-three pages, we should have only one hundred and fifty-nine of LORD SURREY, and eight hundred and four of DR. NOTT and dulness. In the poems of WYATT, the learned editor is equally profuse of himself. The publication, however, is neither completely uninteresting, nor intolerably dull; and although the poetical merits of SURREY and WYATT by no means justify the appearance of the stupendous volumes now under examination, nor the collection of the multifarious and undigested matter with which DR. NOTT has judged it proper to overwhelm us, yet we so much delight on the period of our poetical history in which they flourished, and to recal the echoes of that poetry which they, and their illustrious predecessor, so intensely studied, that we willingly forgive the editor, and sit down to give some account of his publication to our readers.

The Italian writers of the first class have given us examples as perfect as possible, in the different styles of composition. They are unjustly neglected in this country, although our poetry has been far more indebted to them than to any other sources and we cannot refrain from expressing our indignation at the ignorance and conceit of those who presumptuously pour contempt upon that Muse, who has added sublimity, imagination, and fire, to the strains of MILTON, and SPENSER, and GRAY. The language, too, from its NO.XVIII.-VOL.III.-Aug. Rev.

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