"England, with all thy faults, I love thee still, My country." Patriotism may be weakness; but he that would soar above it, is welcome to all the comfort of his frigid abstraction, and to the sublimating consciousness of his useless elevation. If to cherish con The corrosions of competition and the persecution's of envy, the resentments of disappointed, and the maledictions of splenetic cotemporaries, stoicism ideed may çonsider as minor vexations. It is admitted they are: yet they set stoicism itself at defiance. Though a man should not be called out to encounter a dragon or hold tygers at bay, he will find it difficult to be all his life brushing away musquitoes and yet keep his temper, him, or to throw blacks in his way, Whatsoever of happiness we may over which, it is hoped, he must in-have enjoyed is the necessary conevitably stumble. Is his parentage sequence of the first breath we obscure? His meanness of extrac-drew; we therefore consecrate the tion is every where hinted, when it spot, where vitality was inhaled, can be apprehended to do him even however privileged by accident, or the least possible harm. No mat-endeared to us by the blindness of ter, however dignified his charac- chance. CowPER felt the force of ter; no matter, how exalted his this sentiment.. objects of pursuit; no matter, if his transcendant abilities can almost control fate; no matter, if his dis-" position be yet so humble, that the meanest object would seem to control him; still in his native city these hints would be constantly thrown out, the suggestions of malignity be yet busily whispered about. The Messiah himself had scarcely announced to the Nazarenes the ful-tempt for what may be useful in filment of the prophecy, when the advancing social improvement, be silence of wonder was first impi- to discharge a moral obligation, the ously broken by the frivolous in philosopher has the solace of requiry concerning the Saviour of theflecting, that he has done his duty. world, "Is not this the Carpenter's But the man of the world; the son?" The interrogation was put man, that would improve the mor"by those of his own country." The als and enlarge the mind of the reproof of inspiration was in the world; who knows, that the rays language of mildness: "A man is of human beneficence, to be made not without honor, save in his own effectual, must be made to concountry and in his own house." verge; will be glad to take advantage of any artificial medium to increase their convergency, to bring nearer the spot, on which their force is to concentrate, which their radilighten. The man of feeling will ance will warm, cherish, and enfollow this guide and cling to his native city for life. There are reasons enough to induce him to make the place of his nativity that of his necessarily be best acquainted with permanent residence. He must the manners of the people, among whom he is bred. He knows to It however still seems to be the what habits he must accommodate, spontaneous desire of the heart, that and to what prejudices yield. Was being should be continued where be- he originally of low estate? He ing was begun. The spot where ex- feels no little elation, that under the istence commenced claims a sort of favor of providence his elevation is inchoate right to its continuance.attributed to his own personal ex be who witnessed his obscurity, may ertion. He is happy, that those, prophet, or descended to earth and fluttered round you as a guard. I breathe only in your smiles, my Aben, I live but in your love. Adorable Yoto, replied he, you could not doubt but that I should pursue** every means to liberate you from the power of these barbarous strangers. Is it by the horrors of their war that we are to estimate the religion which they inculcate in peace? They preach to us of benevolence and humanity! and they destroy our habitations, pillage our trea sures and make slaves of our wives. Ah, let us perish rather than abandon the law of our great prophet Mahomet, who has interposed his For the Emerald. ABEN XAHUMOR. Translated for the Emerald from the signal protection for your life and French of M. Fleury. Si voluimus, magna sæpe ex parvis intel- CICERO. honour. Come, you shall return [Concluded from page 106.] The distant cries of Yoto strúck on the ears of Xahumor. In a moment he was in the midst of the Portuguese, and sought directly for their chief. The Moors imitated his example; the violence of their Onset was too great, to leave a doubting in a deep sleep and in violent for victory., Aben by a stroke of his lance brought Fernandes at his feet, and the Christians seeing their chief fallen, retired in the utmost disorder. Xahumor ran directly to Yoto, whom he rescued from the slaves that guarded her, and deliv-great prophet would keep you from ered her to his own people. no longer pursued his victory, sufficiently pleased with having rescued his wife from the hands of the enemy. I owe you far more than my life, generous Aben, cried she, I am indebted to you for liberty.Ah, do you believe that I would a Iong time have been a captive ?— Death would have shortly relieved me-my shade should have provided for you a brilliant path to our agitation; I saw you vanquished covered with numberless wounds and bathed in your blood-judge by your own love what impression this dream must make on my heart-it is the inspiration from heaven, the danger by this prophetic representation.-Do not despise this supernatural warning-such signs are always to be regarded. Come, let us forget in our retreat and in each other's arms, the dangers, the misfortunes we have escaped. Love shall assume the place of every other sentiment. Why (replied Aben) why my love would you thus detain me by The valiant Don Lopes saw where danger was the most alarming, and recognized the leader of his enemies by the terrible havoc which he made. He threw himself in his front and called him to combat with an equal foe. The two armies fixed their attention on this contest of the rivals. Don Lopes is wounded-the sight of his blood reanimates his zeal, and either by greater adroitness or superior fortune, he gives the stroke of death to his adversary,who falls, pronouncing with his such counsel? If the great Ma-| homet protects me, you ought to calm your apprehensions. As you love me, so let my glory be dear to you let me not yield to an enemy do not seek to make me unworthy of your love. Ah cruel-said she sighing-follow this fatal glory it places a poignard in my bosom-I know I shall not again behold you. A shout at this moment drowned her cries and she sunk lifeless in the arms of her attendants. Aben ordered the slaves to take her to her father's, and as soon as she re-expiring breath the name of his Yoto. covered her senses to inform her The death of Xahumor stopped of the circumstances that compel the impetuosity of the Moors-they led his instant departure. gathered round the corpse of their wailing his untimely death. departed Xheque, and retreated, be Xahumor assembled his troops from different cantons, and with a body of about six thousand men took the rout to Safy, which was distant about four or five leagues. The unfortunate Yoto, at a dis tance from the camp, was continu. ally seeking news of her husband. At last she learnt of the retreat of The Portuguese were in conster the army-but what a frightful nation at the death of their General, spectacle for the sight of a lover and knew not what plan to adopt; and a wife :-A funeral car, covwhether to receive the enemy at ered with the drapery of the dead, Safy, which was defended merely bore the bloody corpse of Aben by pallisades, or to retreat to their Xahumor-the soldiers with their fortifications on the sea shore.-lances inverted, silent and mournA difference of opinion existed a-ful proclaimed that their leader mong themselves, one part, in obe- was no more. Yoto, at the sight dience to the Court of Portugal, de- of this melancholy apparatus, bevolving the command on Don Lo-came wild with affright and alarm. pes, and another insisting on be- Ah Xahumor, Xahumor (with a stowing it on Don Alphonso, the voice interrupted by tears and sobs) son-in-law of their deceased Gen- thy destiny is accomplished—the eral. During this consternation terror of thy enemies-the support the Moors arrived in view of the of thy friends, thou art forever at place. The Portuguese had not rest. Thy days have passed as a more than three thousand men, but shade-as a flower. The song over they determined on making a vig- thy grave, how early is it sung!orous defence. The impetuous A- Ah cruel love, thou hast fed-thou ben already mounts the pallisades, carriest with thee the happiness of clearing his way with his sword, | Yoto.-Thinkest thou she will surand making a ladder of the slain vire? At these words, in a delirithe Moors inflamed by his astonish-um of grief she snatched a poignard ing intrepidity, attack the village from the hand of a soldier and with equal boldness. plunged it to her heart. BIOGRAPHICAL. to secure their approbation." The West-Indian is the chef d'œuvre of Mr. Cumberland, and indisputably one of the best comedies the pres early in life, the author's fame, and is the only dramatic composition likely to perpetuate his memory. The language is, in general, easy [It is not always the least mean of judging rightly to depend on a man for information of himself. The writer of his own life has the correctent age can boast; it established, knowledge of the facts to be related, but an opinion of them comes with more propriety from other quarters. In introducing the following remarks on the writings of Mr. Cumberland, however, we mean not to make a sug-and elegant, with all the requisite gestion that could detract from the merit of the Biography which he has recently presented to the gratification and delight of every elegant scholar, nor even to say that the sentiments of the writer from whom they are ex tracted are more justly entitled to credit than Mr.Cumberland himself.] CHARACTERISTICS OF MR. CUMBER" LAND AS AN AUTHOR. familiarity of dialogue, without degenerating into loose equivoque and technical vulgarity. Belcour and O'Flaherty are admirably drawn characters; and the fable of the comedy, though in many particu lars faulty, is such as none but a skilful dramatist could have constructed. The whole is a judicious If the merits of a writer were to combination of sentiment and ac be estimate l by the eagerness or tion; of sentiment unperverted by indifference of the public about his affectation, and of action restrained productions, it would be no easy by judgment. If we did not know matter to ascertain, whether Mr. that a man, in a whimsical and unCumberland was in possession of settled nation like ours, cannot poslittle or much; for, from the com- sibly conform to his own idea of mencement of his literary career to propriety in what relates to dramat the present moment, he has been ic writing, we should censure Mr. alternately admired and abused, fol- Cumberland for quitting the methlowed and neglected; we know not od which seems to have guided him to what this is attributable, unless in his first productions; he has unto those extraordinary fluctuations fortunately, however, yielded to poof popular taste, which it is not more pular taste, and given us specimens easy to account for than to prevent. of the very worst style of composi The caprices of an English audi- tion, sentimental as well as humorence are so various, and their trans-ous; at the head of the former may itions from one extreme to another be placed the Dependent, and of the so rapid, that it is scarcely possible latter the Armourer. 2 for an author to please in many compositions of the same nature, As a tragic writer Mr. Cumberhowever equally they may be writ-land is not above mediocrity; his ten. The instability, however, is CARMELITE has a few, and but a not confined to our own country.— I have read an anecdote of a French author, who states, "that he had written no less than six different dramatic performances for the express purpose of gratifying the taste of the town; not one of which, though a very expeditious writer. could he produce in sufficient time few, good lines; the characters are out of nature, and the incidents palpably forced; indeed, the action is derived from so improbable a source, and the plot so romantically puerile, that the imagination is seldom deluded into any belief of reality, The Battle of Hastings, which seems to have been made up of scraps con gregated from all quarters, is much inferior to the Carmelite; and Days of Yore, the last production of this gentleman, far behind both. What, then, are the peculiar characteristics of Mr. Cumberland's muse? since, for the comedy of the Old School he has no relish: for the extravagances of farce he is too classical and for tragedy he has more inclination than talent. are debased by a mixture of breeds. The audience depart from a sentimental comedy as from a cold lesson of musty morality; they admire the fine sentiment, indeed, but they have felt no emotion; the ear has been tingled by the frequent recurrence of a few specific phrases; but the heart has had no share in the matter. Sentimental comedy is, indeed, rather injurious than benHis forte, however he may have eficial to the interests of society; occasionally diverted into the less for people, having learnt to gloss solemn department of the drama, over their conduct by a set of pretty is undoubtedly SENTIMENTAL COM-terms, are too apt to substitute the EDY. Following the track of Hugh verbal apology for the active princiKelly, he borrows his plot, charac-ple. The virtues are thus cheated ter, and language from the novel- of their due, while maxims become ists, transferring, though, with a fashionable, and passion evaporates delicate hand, the property of the in sentiment. circulating library to the stage. Of sentimental writers, however, There is a wearisome sameness in Mr. Cumberland is the first: he is all his plays, which is, perhaps, in- a complete master of the elegances separable from their nature. "The of style, and polishes with great union of two lovers is supposed to taste and nicety. In his sentiment be prevented by a mercenary father he is less hacknied and more diveror a brother of rigid honor; noth-sified, both as to matter and language ing, of course, can be more favour- than most other modern authors. able to sentiment: the lovers lament If he seldom interests by happy intheir destiny with little or no effort duction of plot, and forcible display to avert it: talk a pretty deal about of character, he sometimes instructs sensibility, sympathy, delicacy, feel- by justness of observation, and freing, &c. till some unlooked for ac- quently captivates by the brilliancy cident induces the parent to recal of his expression. His productions his prohibition, or the brother to however, numerous as they are, inrelax his rigour." dicate no extraordinary strength of mind; they are, more distinguisha ble for delicacy than vigour :-in short, they are less the effusions of genius, than the decorated refinements of taste. Sentimental comedy is the least useful of all dramatic compositions, since it neither tends to the correction of the foibles and vanities of life, nor to the improvement of the hearts of mankind. The moral it inculcates is generally too lax for instruc tion, and the pity it inspires too weak to become active; it possesses neither the virtue of tragedy nor of comedy; it is the offspring of a ridiculous union, which retains none of the characteristics of father or mother, according, as in animal life, the noble qualities of either species |