HABITS OF EARL (ALLEN) BATHURST. ABSTINENCE, (abs-teneo) say some lexicographers, comes from abs, from, and temetum, a kind of wine. This reminds me of a derivation I once heard, by a facetious personage, of allegory, from alle, convenient, and gory, belief! In truth, abstinence, so necessary occasionally to the sedentary and the studious, would be prejudicial to others. The celebrated Lord Bathurst, whose name is associated with the Augustan age of English literature, as the friend of Pope, Swift, and Gay, was by no means of abstinent habits. This nobleman lived to the age of ninety-one, and continued of a convivial disposition to the very last. After his son became Chancellor, he went down to visit his father, who invited a large party to meet him at dinner. The whole company kept it up till a late hour, with the exception of the Chancellor, who retired about twelve o'clock, on which the venerable Earl, with great facetiousness, said, "now, my friends, as the old gentleman is gone to bed, we can manage to take another bottle." When Dr. Cadogan published his work on abstinence in gout, the old Lord said, he should not be debarred by it from taking his bottle, because Cheyne had told him fifty years before, that he would die if he did not leave off port; "you see, however," observed he, "that in spite of Cheyne and Cadogan, I am here yet!" THE SUMMUM BONUM. HEAVEN deals to mortal men, from out its store, But no man runs his boat, with single oar, None pocket up their neighbour's share of praise. [And they who wander learning's wildering maze, Some dart through time-space-death, and science wide, Some nature gave o'er dunce's necks to ride, While wit's triumphant lightnings round them play. Or tow'r-sustained by genius,-o'er the world :- Kings from their thrones by gifted bards are hurled, And round some happy brows the wreath of sense is curled. But high o'er all, a favour'd few are bless'd With that which art or genius ne'er could frame : Before it melts the snow on beauty's breast; Sense, wit, worth, virtue, hide their heads in shame. Th' ascendant star of gravity and mirth- It crowns and arms its children from their birth, Δ. ELEGIAC STANZAS ON LORD BYRON. "De mortuus nil nisi bonum." LET the spirit of song pour the accents of sorrow, In youth's early dawn, on the brow of the mountain The dominion of passion, the empire of feeling, "Hours of Indolence" then to the Muse were devoted, The stores of tradition, the legends of story, To him the rude tempest, that swept o'er the billow, Bore the voice of the spirit that rode on the storm; And reclin'd on the rock, the wild heath for his pillow, With the pen of the poet he painted its form. But not the rude scenes of his youthful seclusion There the young buds of feeling then blush'd in profusion, By culture improv'd, their perfection unfolding, Thus passed buoyant youth, and as manhood succeeded, The shoals of experience its torrent impeded, To far distant lands as an exile he wander'd, To realms that to classic remembrance are dear; There o'er the cold ashes of heroes he ponder'd, And drop'd to their manes the eloquent tear. "Childe Harold" shall tell of each highly wrought feeling, As o'er the mementos of ages he stray'd; When the deep shades of night o'er the landscape were stealing, And the tribute to each mournful relic he paid. To these scenes ow'd the "Giaour" its soul-thrilling beauty, To the shaggy-mouth'd cavern condemns the sweet maid. The "Bride of Abydos," the "Corsair's" proud daring, He saw not the chalice that fate was preparing, Or knew not the draught had been doom'd as his own. The dark clouds of grief o'er his destiny hover'd, DIFFICULTIES OF TRANSLATION. FRENCH POETRY. age In the present, as well as past, rage for book-making, and in this “ of poetic' brass," it had often surprised me, that some of those unhappy barbouilleurs de papier, whose hours of idleness (and too frequently hours. which should be of business), are employed in supplying the periodical press with its daily poetic bread, had never turned their heads or hands, for I know not which has the greater share in their productions, to a translation of some of the French poets into English verse; there not being, that I am aware of, a single translation of any of the "chef-d'œuvres" of the French poets; certainly none of note. Impressed with this idea, and being one of the aforesaid barbouilleurs, I treasured it up as a discovery scarcely less important, at least to my own fame and profit, than that of a north-west passage, or a perpetual motion, resolved, when leisure should offer from the occupations of my profession, to set about a translation of nothing less than Voltaire's Henriade, that idol of national pride, and summit of universal perfection; indeed, so eager was I" for the fray," that a little before that leisure offered, I stole some hours from my proper studies, to set about that pleasing, though profitless one, of poetry.-Poetry! sweet maid, though thou wilt have much to answer for, when our Otways, Savages, Goldsmiths, Chattertons, and the long list of others, whom I remember not, and those by the world forgotten, shall rise up in judgment against thee. Yet, "with all thy faults, I love thee still." Apostrophe, en poete, and to proceed. All difficulties melted before the warmth of my first attack, and the lines glided from my brain, or from what other department of my head you are pleased to imagine, down my pen with wonderful velocity; and thus the first paragraph appeared. I sing the hero who o'er Gallia reign'd, A throne by conquest and by birthright gain'd ; O heavenly truth, descend! and on these lays, : Still Valois reign'd, and from his faithless hand, Flow'd at full freedom-laws were trampled o'er, Y No longer 'twas the prince with glory crown'd; Reign'd in their sovereign's stead-voluptuous throng! The Guises, now their rapid fortune prais'd, Rome grows alarmed-Spain trembles for her France- On these unhappy walls directs her eyes! In Paris was inhuman discord seen, Stirring to war the Leaguers and Mayenne, People and Church; and from its towers amain, Down on the west, those flowery borders near, Where arts are nourished, and where nature sports; Unhappy Valois there his force collects, There saw we those fam'd champions of the state, Truly they said, when by his wisdom sway'd, Unable to comprise the second couplet of— Qui par de longs malheurs apprit à gouverner, in one of English verse, I was compelled to stretch it into two; but this was a liberty which I conceived every translator at liberty to take, although |