witness to what had happened. Shortly after another friend dropped in, and the conversation turning on the recent fray, Sir Walter asked him if he had been present? To which he received an answer in the affirmative, followed by an account totally different from the preceding one. This narrator had scarcely gone out, when a third person entered; and he, having been also an eye witness, gave a recital no less different from the other two than they had differed from each other. No sooner was sir Walter alone than he began to meditate deeply on this circumstance. "Good God," said he to himself, "how is it possible I can pretend to arrive at any certainty respecting events which have taken place three thousand years ago, when I cannot obtain a correct account of what took place under my own window during the last three hours?" The impression, it seems, was so strong on his mind, that he threw the nearly finished manuscript of his ancient history into the fire. B. Assem.

Russia. New Voyage of discovery round the World.-A fourth expedition for visiting distant parts, sailed from the port of Cronstadt, September 9, 1816. The Russian American Company purchased for this purpose the American ship Hannibal, that on board of which general Moreau returned to Europe.

This name was changed to that of Kutusow; and her companion was the Suwarrow. The command of this expedition was given to captain Hagemester, the same officer as commanded the Neva, during the expedition under captain Krusenstern. We believe that we have mentioned this before; but not with these circumstances; and that intelligence has lately been received from these ships, via Kamtschatka. ib.

France.-Among the new journals planned and instituted in France, is one that distinguishes itself by its address to those professions which use the learned languages:-Hermes Romanus, the Latin Mercury, by J. N. BarbierVemers. It is printed in 12mo.; and professes the intention of restoring the Latin of France to the just purity of the language. As we know his majesty Louis XVIII, to be an excellent Latin scholar, we pay more attention to his report on this work, than to most others that fall from the lips of sovereigns. It is affirmed that he should say to the author, "Your work is useful to the classical student, and agreeable to the friends of letters; continue to give us good latin; only those who are well grounded in latin, can well understand the French language." The remark may be applied to other languages beside the French.

The following lines were never published in England, though several copies were printed and presented by the author to his friends. We are indebted to the politeness of a gentleman just arrived from England, for the manuscript copy, and for the above information, there can be no doubt of the genuineness of the piece, even if it were possible to disregard internal evidence. We recognize immediately the strong feeling that characterises Lord Byron's writings, and much of the poignant and well directed satire, that first rendered him celebrated. The allusions in this little production, are peculiarly happy, and we have again occasion to remark, that few poets who have written much, have so long sustained in this respect, the character of originality. There is something so generous, and high minded, in his attempt to call forth the shame of a certain personage, that we cannot avoid noticing it; unfortunately the only method, by which he could in any way avenge the wrongs of neglected merit, was to excite our sympathy by the gloomy picture he has drawn of expiring genius, and to rouse our indignation by exhibiting in its true colours, the "mockery of wo" that insulted the remains of Sheridan.

MONODY

On the Death of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Esquire.

BY GEORGE LORD BYRON.

Yes grief will have way-but the fast falling tear
Shall be mingled with deep execrations on those

Who could bask in that Spirit's meridian career,
And yet leave it thus lonely and dark at its close.
Whose vanity round him, flew only while fed

By the odour his fame in its summer time gave
Whose vanity now with quick scent for the dead,
Reappears like a Vampire to feed at his grave!
Oh! it sickens the heart to see blossoms so hollow;
And spirits so mean, in the great and high born,
To think what a long line of titles may follow

The relics of him who died friendless and lorn! How proud they can press to the funeral array Of him whom they shunn'd in his sickness and sorrow, How bailiffs may seize his last blanket to day

Whose pali shall be held up by nobies to morrow!
And thou too, whose life a sick epicure's dream,
Incoherent, and gross! still groser had pass'd,

Were it not for that cordial and sweet cheering beam
Which his friendship, and wit, o'er thy nothingness cast,
No-not for the wealth of the land that supplies thee,
With millions to heap upon foppery's shrine;
No-not for the riches of all who despise thee,

Tho' this would make Europe's whole opulence mine,—
Would I suffer what e'en in the heart that thou hast,
All mean as it is, must have consciously burned
When the pittance which shame had wrung from thee at last,
And which found all his wants at an end was returned:
"Was this then the fate," (future sages will say,

When some names shall live but in History's curse,
When truth will be heard these Lords of a day,
Be forgotten as fools, or remembered as worse)-
"Was this then the fate of that high gifted man
The pride of the palace, the bower, and the hall,
The orator, dramatist, minstrel, who ran

Through each mode of the lyre; and was master of all!
Whose mind was an essence compounded with art,
From the finest and best of all other mens' powers,
Who ruled like a wizard the world of the heart,

And could call up its sunshine or bring down its showers,
Whose humour, as gay as the firefly's light
Play'd round every object and shone as it play'd,
Whose wit in the combat as gentle as bright
Ne'er carried a heart stain away on its blade:
Whose eloquence brightning whatever it tried
Whether reason, or fancy, the gay or the grave,
Was as rapid, as deep, and as brilliant a tide
As ever bore freedom aloft on its wave."

Yet-such was the man, and so wretched his fate,
And thus, soon or later, shall all have to grieve,

Who waste their morns dew in the beams of the great And expect 'twill return to refresh them at eve;

In the wood of the north, there are insects that prey
On the brains of the Elk till his very last sigh,
Oh! genius! thy patrons more cruel than they
First feed on thy brains, and then-leave thee to die!

Lines written by the late Right Honourable Richard Brinsley Sheridan. The following lines have been handed to us by the gentleman to whose pen we are indebted for the biographical notice of the late Mr. Sheridan. They are interesting as an elegant effusion of that great man, written at a time when the army of invasion under Napoleon Bonaparte in 1804, was expected every tide, to make a descent upon the British shores, and may rival the strains of Turtous, animating the Greeks to battle; for vigour of sentiment, ardent patriotism, and forcible appeal, calculated to rouse every energy of human action.

An Address to the British Volunteers spoken by Mr. Kemble at
Drury-Lane Theatre.

IN Spartan bands to wake heroic fire,
Renown'd Turtous strung his martial lyre;
Turtous weak and lame, unskill'd to wield
The flying spear or grasp the pond'rous shield.
Nor by experience taught in just array,
To form the files or guide the doubtful fray,
Yet heaven inspir'd he knew beyond controul,
With strains sublime to rouse the torpid soul-
Swell with proud hopes the heart, and by his breath
Kindle the love of fame, the scorn of death.
And shall the British muse 'midst war's alarms,
In silence, rest nor call her son's to arms?
Shall Britons yield an unresisting prey,
And own a base usurper's foreign sway?
No--when you march to guard your sea-girt shore
Return victorious or return no more.

Greece, in her freedom's most propitious hour
Wag'd impious wars in quest of spoil or power;
And Rome, through many an age unjustly brave
Fought to oppress and conquer'd to enslave.

E'en the bright wreaths our Edwards, Henrys claim,
Crown'd not the cause of freedom but of fame;
While fond ambition, with misguided zeal,

Sought England's glory more than England's weal.
But when of old to chase a foreign host,

The painted guardians of our Albion's coast,
O'er her white cliffs descending from afar,
On Cesar's legions pour'd the tide of war-

When scythed chariots swept the ensanguin'd plain,
Then bards enraptur'd sung this patriot strain;
Ye generous youths who guard the British shore,
Return victorious or return no more.
Again Britannia sounds her just alarms,
Nor lures by interest, or ambition's charms,
But prompts to deeds which fairer trophies yield
Than graced in Agincourt's immortal field;
And bids you guard in free and gallant strife
All that adorns, improves, or sweetens life,
Your homes, by faithful love and friendship blest
Each pledge of love now smiling at the breast:
Your daughters fresh in bloom, mature in charms,
Doom'd, should he conquer, to the spoiler's arms:
Your sons, who hear the tyrant's threats with scorn,
The joys, the hopes of ages yet unborn,
All-all endear this just this sacred cause,

Your sovereign's throne, your freedom's faith and laws
Champions of Britain's cherish'd rights, ye stand,

Protect, preserve, avenge your native land,

For lo! she cries amidst the battle's roar,

Return victorious or return no more.

THE

ANALECTIC MAGAZINE.

FEBRUARY, 1819.

ART. I.-A Sketch of the Military and Political Power of Russia, in the year 1817. Serpens nisi serpentem comederit-non sit Draco. New York: Kirk & Mercein. pp. 208.

THE dispensations of Providence are in no respect more remarkable than in furthering the progress of civilization, by elevating one nation as the means of suscitating and advancing others. The history of the world abounds with these examples, while reflection leads us irresistibly to discover in them evidences of beneficent design in the governing mind of an Universal Ruler.

From the earliest periods of the dawn of science, when Egypt was the sole depository of human acquisition, we trace the silent diffusion of its slender stores in those dark ages, as the certain precursor of advantages to man. The light of knowledge appears to have travelled with irregular, but progressive steps, and to have spread with the extension of conquest or alliance. So captive Greece poured out her treasures of art and refinement into the lap of victorious Rome.

Græcia capta ferum victorem cepit, et artes

Intulit agresti Latio—

But, without recurring to remote periods for the illustration of this truth, we may contemplate its influence over the ancient Sclavonic tribes, whose descendants now constitute the population of "all the Russias." Long did their savage propensities denote a barbarian origin: their clans widely dispersed, and wandering in search of new pasturage for their flocks, roaming over the wildest deserts, and neglecting even the productive fisheries of the Volga and the Vistula. No cities, no villages, graced their extended plains. No uniform system of policy united, during five tedious centuries, their scattered hordes under one head. Science and letters were unknown. Superstition usurped the place of rational piety, and civil war diminished their numbers.

The humanizing arts have not yet performed their complete revolution. Asia, Africa, feel their power.-South America bor