bloody defeat, and forced the survivors to quit the country with precipitation.

Such was the occasion of Swedenborg's triumphal Ode to Steinbock on the Defeat of the Danes. It begins thus:

"Conticeant strepitus et bella parumper et arma,
Succedant plausus jubila vota lyræ.

Lætitia resonet, feriat qui sidera clamor

Ferveat ut sonitu quilibet inde locus."

The following paraphrase may give the reader some idea of its spirit and sentiment :

N. S.

"Lulled be the dissonance of war-the crash

Of blood-stained arms-and let us listen now
To sweetest songs of jubilee. From harp
And thrilling lyre, let melodies of joy
Ring to the stars, and every sphere of space
Glow with the inspiring soul of harmony.
Phoebus applauds, and all the Muses swell
Our glory on their far-resounding chords.
Well may the youthful poet be abashed,
Who sings such mighty enterprise,―his theme
So great, so insignificant his strain!—

Let Europe boast of Sweden-in the North,

South, East, and West, victorious.-Round the Pole
The seven Triones dance exultingly,

While Jove the Thunderer sanctions his decree,

Never to let the hyperborean bear

Sink in the all-o'erwhelming ocean stream;

For when in the wave he bathes his giant limbs,
"Tis but to rise more proudly. Even now

The fertile Scandia wreaths her brow with flowers,
And Victory's trophies glitter over Sweden.
The God of battles smiles upon our race,
And the fierce Dane sues for our mercy:-Yea,
The troops insidious Cimbria sent against us,
Lie scattered by a warrior young in arms.
Though Swedish Charles, our hero King's afar
In Russian battles-his bright valour fills
The heart of Steinbock-the victorious one
These names of Charles and Steinbock like a spell
Created armaments, and hurled pale fear
Among our foes.-Steinbock! thy red right hand
Hath smitten down the spoiler; and in thee,
Another Charles we honour,-and rejoice
To hail thee, hero of thy grateful country.
Bind the triumphal laurel round thy brow,
Such chaplet well becomes, the invincible;
Ascend thy chariot-we will fling the palms
Before thee, while the peal of martial music
Echoes thy high celebrity around.
Hadst thou in olden times of fable lived,
I had invoked thee as a demigod.
Behold, how glitteringly in northern heaven
Thy star exults: the name of Magnus fits
Both it and thee, inseparably linked:
In thee, the genius of the North expands,
And all the virtue of thy ancestry

-VOL. VI.

Illustrates thee. Chief of our gallant chiefs-
Too gallant for a song so weak as mine-
Oh! could their names enshrined in monuments
Appear, how would the eyes of Sweden kindle
To read them. Coronets of gold for thee,
Were all too little recompence;-hereafter,
A crown of stars is all thine own.

The foe
Lies broken by thy force and heroism:
Numerous as Denmark's sands, they came-how few
Returned-their princes and their soldiery

Repulsed with scorn, while shuddering horror hung
Upon their flight-Jove's thunderstorms assailed
Their bands of treachery, daylight was eclipsed
In thickest clouds, and the pure cause of God
And patriotism triumphed. Ay, the cause
Of Sweden's royalty, which Denmark strove—
How vainly-to despoil. Our king perceived
Their rising hatred; poets were forbid
To sing his praise-his praise beyond compare:
For this, in sooth, the land was steeped in blood;
Even for this, the fire and sword laid waste
Our native soil. Then let each warrior bind
The laurel chaplet, and the bard exult
O'er slaughtered rebels. For the destiny
Of Charles shall yet awake the Muse's hymns.
Ah, soon return,-Oh, monarch of our love!
Oh! Sun of Sweden, waste not all thy light
To illume the crescent of the Ottomans :
Thy absence we bewail, wandering in glooms
Of midnight sorrow-save that these bright stars
That lead us on to victory, still console

Thy people's hearts, and bid them not despair."

So much for Swedenborg's "Song of Triumph."

Alas! his hero,

Charles, was not fated to return. His story is too truly told in the most poetic lines Dr. Johnson ever wrote:

"A frame of adamant, a soul of fire,

No dangers fright him, and no labours tire;
O'er love and fear extends his wide domain,
The unconquered lord of pleasure and of pain.
His death was destined to a foreign strand,
A nameless fortress, and a dubious hand:
He left a name, at which the world grew pale,
To point a moral, and adorn a tale.

Swedenborg's Muse, however, was not confined to gravities. The majority of these juvenile poems consists of epigrams and love ditties; some of them containing very amorous double entendres, which might be called indecent, were not Beza, Grotius, and other pious Latinists guilty of much worse.

There is one pretty little epigram," In Puellam dictam Victoriam," which, in honour of her most gracious Majesty, we will not fail to repeat. Voici :—

"Lux tibi natalis dedit Victoria nomen,
Multorum es voto nobilitata ducum
Arma licet capias nusquam Victricia-Victrix
At quod sis, dono Nymphæ. Parentis habes,

Forma tua est victrix, hinc multa trophæa locabis,
Sed scio succumbes quod quoque victa semel."

"You were called Victoria even from your birthday;

You are ennobled by the loyalty of many chiefs;

You are victorious, though you use no weapons but your charms:
You are victorious, oh Nymph, by the gifts of your parents;
Thy beauty is victorious, and secures you the triumph,

But you must in turn be conquered by love."

There is a merry sonnet, "In Poetæ et Puella Nuptias," which we will translate merrily. It may amuse Thomas Moore.

"Dear Tom, whom we christened the poet of love,
Has married young Chloe, an absolute dove;

Now Tom, my fine fellow, you're sure to sing well,
For you'll find in your sweetheart, Parnassus' own spell.
When your heart is too hot, or your lips are too dry,
Your best Aganippe is all in her eye.

If the damp weather injures the strings of your lyre,
Just get her to touch them, they'll kindle like fire:
And when with your pipe, you would play a duetto,
"Twill be charming indeed, if your Chloe's in petto.

Here follows one-"In Libellum suum dictum Dædalus Hyperboreus :"

"Dædalus en auras carpit ridetque superne
Quos sibi Rex Minos struxit in orbe dolos;
Auras arte tua sic tu mi Dædale carpe,
Atque dolos ride quos tibi turba struit."

"The ancient Dædalus in triumph soared,

Scorned Minos' labyrinth, and his tower of bricks;
So flies the modern Dædalus abroad-

Laughs at its foes, and all their dirty tricks."

The next we shall quote is one "In Parentis Effigiem Eneam, quæ non liquefacta est in Domus ejus Incendio :"

"Thy statue, father, of inviolate fame,

Emerges brighter from the insulting flame;
So let thy soul in purer splendours glow,

When heaven's last fires consume the world below."

The most witty, and the most saucy-the most natty, and the most naughty-of all Swedenborg's epigrams, is one on a very wrinkled old lady, with whom the poet seems to been have most unpolitely jocose. The Latin run thus:

Ruga tua, O Mulier! sulcet quam tortilis ora,
Inque quot est pellis ducta reducta plicas
In rugis habitas, quam si replicare per orbem
Posses O esses quam spatiosa gigas.

Corpore credo tuo gemino fores æqua parenti
Et totum posses intus habere virum.”

The English may be thus versed, and thus veiled :—
"Old woman, what wrinkles have shrivelled thy skin,
What folds upon folds does thy tanned hide fold in;
You live amid rolls which could each be unrolled,
You would cover all earth, you gigantic old scold:
In thee, all papas and mamas we could bind,
And in thy vast parchment include all mankind."

FRANCIS BARHAM.

100

OUR MONTHLY CRYPT.

"As good almost to kill a man, as kill a good book: who kills a man, kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills Reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye. Many a man lives a burden to the earth; but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life."

What have the Whigs done? London: Painter. 1841.

THIS is a very able and eloquent pamphlet on the Conservative side, showing that the Whigs have been able to do either nothing, or nothing well. There is a vigour and harmony in the style, which argue a power in the writer for more ambitious efforts.

Memoranda on France, Italy, and Germany, &c. &c. By EDWIN LEE, Esq. M.R.C.S. London: Saunders and Otley. 1841.

This is a very superior book, full of information, elegantly communicated. The Little Wife, and the Baronet's Daughter. By Mrs. GREY. Saunders and Otley. 1841.

These are two pretty tales by a lady who has already acquired some reputation. Her endeavour is to inculcate virtuous sentiments and conduct. Her plots are conducted with skill, and the execution is very good. We prefer the latter story, as exhibiting more individuality of character; and we give her credit in it for great liveliness in the style of treatment. In fact, the second piece is very clever.

Three Years in Persia; with Travelling Adventures in Koordistan. By GEORGE FOWLER, Esq. In 2 vols. London: Henry Colburn. 1841. These two volumes are, in part, a republication of the PERSIAN REMINISCENCES, that lately appeared in this Magazine. Their merits are, accordingly, well known to our readers. The author has great powers of observation, and expresses himself in an easy, graphic and intelligible style. Having a thorough knowledge of Persian manners, from actual experience, and being a man of the greatest good sense, he is enabled to set before his readers a complete picture of life as it is in Persia and Koordistan. The work is, besides, illustrated with eight lithographic engravings, descriptive of the author's adventures. The publication deserves a place in every library.

A Love Gift. Second edition. London: George Bell, Fleet Street. 1841. An exquisite little present, devoted to poetry, in which virtuous love is celebrated.

The Spirit of Magna Charta; or, Universal Representation the Genius of the British Constitution. By WILLIAM ATKINSON, Author of "The Principles of Political Economy," &c. London: Pelham Richardson, 23, Cornhill. 1841.

The author distinguishes between Universal Representation and Universal Suffrage. His pamphlet is, in all respects, excellent; and should be universally read."

The Biblical Assistant, and Book of Practical Piety. Edited by the Rev. D. G. GOYDER, Glasgow. London: W. Newbery, 6, Chenies Street, Bedford Square.

The number before us contains Mr. Emerson's brochure on NATURE. We remember that when we noticed this brief treatise, in a former number, we attributed it to Mr. Alcott. We are glad to have an opportunity of correcting our mistake. It is one of the most eloquent of the works of the American transcendentalists-equally Christian and philosophical.

Illustrations of the Tragedies of Eschylus and Sophocles, from the Greek, Latin, and English Poets; with an Introductory Essay. By J. F. BOYES, M. A., St. John's College. Oxford: J. Vincent. London: Whittaker and Co. 1841.

A delightful paper might be written on this brochure, had we space or leisure. The introduction to the work is, in all respects, instructive and true. The present number only contains the Agamemnon of Eschylus, with parallel passages from the Bible-Milton-Shakspere-the Elizabethan Poets-Shirley-Congreve-Sir Walter Scott-Shelley-Lord Byron-and numerous others.

The Epicure's Almanac, or Diary of Good Living, &c. &c. By BENSON E. HILL, Author of "Recollections of an Artillery Officer,' ""A Pinch of Snuff," &c. &c. Price 2s. 6d. How and Parsons, Fleet-Street. Although this neat and cheap little book has, like its author, "merit enough to make enemies," a larger number of reviewers have awarded it unqualified praise, while we have read but two "slight, unworthy and ridiculous" remarks, of a depreciatory tone. First, that a comic expression, or so, in its pages, is "inelegant." Secondly, that, as all of its three hundred and sixty-five receipts are not for substantial eatables, it ought not to be called a Diary of Good Living.

Now, if drollery be a sin, Yamen forgive the wicked writer of "Home Service," "Playing About," &c. &c., for he will have his joke; but all this did we know before, and never convicted the gentlemanly humorist of one coarse, gross, or vulgar idea. Directions for dressing of pigs' pettitoes need not be the less clear and useful for his rendering them "light" and "fantastic." Ox-tails have often a certain waggery about them in life; why not, then, allow them to retain it, embalmed in the stew "Pan,” that “shall remain ?" If Mr. Hill cannot treat matters-of-fact in the old matter-of-course way, shall we feel disappointed, or angry, that his wit is not smothered in onions? His brain boiled down? As to the second objection, does not a pot of coffee, a bowl of punch, or a salad, contribute to our good living as much as might a calf's head, a bullock's heart, a flat-fish, a goose, or any other article of which certain critics naturally remind us? They must make what they fancy original remarks.

Now, from no new lights of our own, we perceive the difficulties of a task like Mr. Hill's; difficulties which he has so neatly and so cleverly mastered, that we wonder at the small number of his defects, not at their existence. To avoid tedious repetition, yet not only make your meaning clear, but keep your style "quite correct," is almost impossible, in a receipt book. We are not "word-hunters, who live on syllables;" we only assert that it is easier to fancy faults, than to find them; for every scribbler imagines he has taste, while very few of our newspaper critics have much of that more purchaseable affair-grammar.

We are not, by a Mrs. Candour-like defence, implying that Mr. Hill ever leaves one in doubt as to his meaning; but that the accuracies and graces of composition most laudable, in this work, will be found by those who try his recipes. The book's best literary merit is its truth and utility; its respect for pockets and constitutions, the demands of small families, who wish to unite ornament with healthful fare of all kinds. This is Epicureanism, in its ancient and real sense. Our ex-officer, ex-actor, has viewed life, under a variety of contrasted phases, and in many scenes. Scotland, Ireland, France, Flanders, and the West Indies have added to his culinary stock of "actual experience." He has been welcomed at the boards of good livers, in town and country. The ladies have transcribed choice notions, from their housekeeping books, for him. We have the result of all this in a portable shape, with an ample index, and pleasant explanatory Preface. Despite the author's pretended earnestness, and ironical, exaggerated zest,