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That cropped the Carian slope:
His rest more sweet when Dian
Fleet huntress of the woods;
Came bounding over the mountains,
Came leaping over the floods,
Came dancing over the rivers,
That with her beauty shone,
To see in mellow moonlight
The sleep of Endymion.
She looked on the lovely sleeper,
The soul that knew no strife;
He look'd like some spotless marble
God-wakened into life.

She bended gently o'er him;
Beneath his breast of snow,
She heard the pure blood flowing
So musical below.

She smooth'd the mossy pillow
Beneath him as he slept,

And a fragrant flower sprang near him,

Each tear the goddess wept.

She kiss'd his cheeks so downy,

So beautiful so brown,

And amidst his locks so golden
She wove a silver crown.

Her breath was music round him,
And her presence fancies fair,
That cradled the happy dreamer
In a winged and rosy lair.

She look'd on the sleeping shepherd,
And her love with gazing grew,
And the limbs of the lovely mortal
She bathed in immortal dew."

We have thus, we trust, by the quotations we have made, convinced the reader that the " Lays and Legends of Ancient Greece" contain much that is vigorous in style, and poetic in feeling. If the quotations we have made do not contain the genuine spirit of poetry, then we do not know what poetry is; and certainly will not be at the pains to seek for it in the unintelligible jargon of abstract thought,-the mystico-metaphysical nonsense which obtains the name of poetry now-a-days,-and which critics delight to bespatter with their praise. Such critics as maintain that there is no poetry in these Lays, had better come forward at once, and proclaim their ignorance and self-conceit by declaring that Hesiod and Homer, and a host of others, were no poets at all; and that in reference to such the world has been, and is, in a sad and most absurd mistake. There are, of course, many passages in the Lays before us, to which we could take exception. But what we contend for is, that the myths are in themselves poetical; and that they have not lost any of their poetry by being presented to the world in an English garb. We say there are many passages to which we could take exception; but there are none which demands severe criticism, and we hate that species of critique so much indulged in, which conveys no other impression to the reader than that the book, whatever it be, is neither

good, bad, nor indifferent, but a mixture of all three. If the work is good, let it be praised; if it is bad, let it be condemned. We assert then, and in this we think the quotations we have given will fully justify us, that the " Lays and Legends of Ancient Greece" are not inferior to any in the language; and we have no hesitation in saying that they are equal, in all that constitutes true poetry, either to the Lays of Rome" or to the "Lays of the Cavaliers."

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We would have the reader bear in mind, however, that it is only of the "Lays and Legends" we speak-only to them that we accord such high praise. Were we to enter upon the Miscellaneous Poems, which fill the larger half of the volume, we doubt very much if our criticism would be of so laudatory a kind as the foregoing. The Professor, we think, would have done well if he had published the "Lays and Legends" by themselves. Of the other subjects, many are so hacknied that their very name repells; while others of them are not very fit themes for the Muse. We think the Professor was rash in staking his reputation upon poems so unequal among themselves as these Miscellaneous Poems are. Let the reader but compare some of those fine passages in the "Lays," which he has now read, with the following, and he will at once perceive our meaning :

"Name the leaves on all the trees,

Name the waves on all the seas,
Name the notes of all the groves,
Thus thou namest all my loves.

"I do love the dark, the fair;
Golden ringlets, raven hair,
Eye that swims in sunny light,
Glance that shoots like lightning bright.

"I do love the young, the old,
Maiden modest, virgin bold,
Tiny beauties, and the tall,
Earth has room enough for all.

"Paris was a pedant fool,

Meting beauty by a rule;
Pallas? Juno? Venus?-he

Should have chosen all the three.

"I am wise, life's every bliss
Thankful tasting; and a kiss
Is a sweet thing, I declare,
From a dark maid or a fair."

Verily the Professor is a universal lover, and he expresses his loves in "mortal verse." He nearly equals in his capacity for loving some one of whom the author of the "Life Drama" somewhere speaks, who

"Loved all things from God to foam."

With the feeling that dictated the "Braemar Ballads" we disagree in toto; and should have preferred in place of them, "Lays and Legends of the Highlands." Poets should eschew politics. Their mission is quite different from that of the politician. But this is neither the time

nor the place to give our reasons for disagreeing with the Professor on this subject, and therefore we do not enter into it at all. Should the agitation continue, we shall return to the subject at another time and in another form.

And now, reader, we have finished our-we were about to say task, but the interest we have felt, and the pleasure we have experienced in the perusal of those "Lays and Legends" have far more than compensated us for the few hours of sleep we lost in the writing of this criticism. We have done no more than justice to Professor Blackie; and if we have interested you in these "Lays and Legends," and have excited within you a desire to read them for yourselves, we have accomplished our object, and have not lost our labour. We have given no quotation from the Historical part of the "Lays," and therefore, with one from the opening of the Battle of Marathon, we close the volume and our critique. "From Pentelicus' pine-clad height A voice of warning came,

That shook the silent autumn night
With fear to Media's name,
Pan from his Marathonian cave

Sent screams of midnight terror,

And darkling horror curled the wave

On the broad sea's moonlit mirror.

Woe, Persia, woe! thou liest low, low!
Let the golden palaces groan,

Ye mothers weep for sons that shall sleep
In gore on Marathon."

LITERARY NOTICE.

Painless Tooth-Extraction without Chloroform. With observations on Local
Anesthesia by Congelation in General Surgery. By WALTER Blundell,
Surgeon-Dentist to the Metropolitan Free Hospital. Second Edition.
London: John Churchill, New Burlington Street. 1856.

THOUGH far from being within the special objects of our Magazine, we can-
not refrain from noticing the above work as embodying a novel and some-
what startling application of cold in preventing pain in surgical operations,
especially in tooth-extraction. Indeed, we have just learned that a talented
young man has become sole patentee of the method for Edinburgh, and in
proffering him our best wishes in his endeavours to alleviate suffering, we
trust he will meet with the reward which all benevolent and well-intended
actions merit. The following is the preface to the work :-

"The very encouraging sale of the first edition of this pamphlet has induced me, in the present instance, to spare no expense to render a second issue still more worthy of professional and public notice. To effect this, the subject-matter has been in many parts rewritten, as well as arranged in separate chapters, in order to facilitate reference to the chief points of arguJ ment in favour of the benumbing process, and as superseding the future employment of chloroform in dental operations.

The following pages are in advocacy of an agent which may faithfully and effectually serve mankind as a rational anesthetic. It is one, moreover, which, to render the body insensible to pain, does not require (as all others

hitherto have done) the surrender of consciousness. Thus it will appear that, though chloroform has failed in one great essential point-safety, the hopes of the human race are not thereby annihilated; and that for the prevention of pain other effective means are open to us all. Etherization, to annul the pain of surgical operations, is an agent which for some time bade fair to realize the dreams and hopes of the afflicted; but of late it has too plainly manifested an inglorious subserviency to a power whose resistless hand no surgeon's art can stay. This feature of its character is rapidly developing itself in the form of frequent fatal accidents. Such misfortunes are, we find, publicly chronicled, to the dismay of its staunchest advocates; and, as an inevitable consequence, the former unalloyed delight of the public mind is giving place to increasing anxiety and fear. It will therefore appear that I have not appealed against the use of chloroform in surgery beyond the wide circle of minor operations; nor have I exaggerated its dangers.

"It is now nearly five years since I commenced a series of experiments to overcome the obvious disadvantages attending the direct application of cold to such sensitive parts as the mouth and teeth, and have at length succeeded beyond my most sanguine expectations. I early found that the means used by my predecessors in the cause of local anesthetics, as elsewhere described, served only to maintain those disadvantages, and that some method should be found to produce insensibility or numbness in the part without 'shock' or inconvenience of any kind. This was the object steadily pursued and this I have attained.

"I have much pleasure in acknowledging the assistance of Mr Bagg,— whose talent and truthfulness as an illustrator are too well known to require further notice."

ECCLESIASTICAL INTELLIGENCE.

Downing Street, Jan. 16.-The Queen has been pleased to appoint the Rev. George Irvine, to be minister of the Church of Scotland, in the Island of Mauritius.

Clerical Presentation.-The Rev. Wm. Gordon has been presented to the second charge, on the 21st inst., of Magnus's Church, Kirkwall, Orkney.

Honarary Degree. The Senatus Academicus of the University of Edin

burgh, have conferred the Degree of LL.D., upon Professor James Stephen, of King's College, London.

Died, at the manse of Whitekirk, on the 16th inst. the Rev. James Lang, minister of the United Parishes of Whitekirk and Tynninghame.

Died, at 7 Queen Street, Edinburgh, on the 11th instant, the Rev. Thomas Clark, D.D., one of the Ministers of St Andrew's Church.

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PROCEED we now in our pilgrimage over India, as the earliest stage, if not, indeed, the very birth-place of the Arts and Sciences, that distinguish and embellish civilized life; and leaving to the Hindus of an age, when Greece was young, the undisputed possession, as we have seen, of the field of metaphysical philosophy, let us see how they disported themselves in that of Poetry, and its kindred pursuits. Many of our readers, we doubt not, have associated with the poetry of the Hindus, all that is wild and fantastic in imagination-all that is absurd and grotesque in conception-all that is unnatural and hyperbolical in description; but never perhaps was there, on the whole, a more erroneous estimate formed of their progress in this particular department of literature;-and the higher we ascend into past times, the less does this progress deserve the condemnation which it has experienced. Doubtless, as measured by the standards, which the colder critics of the west may think fit to apply to it, there is much in Hindu Poetry, that may appear justly to incur the charges that have been brought against it. But how much of what we account blemishes might be converted into beauties, if, as we are bound to do before we judge, we could enter into the spirit that inspired the bard of India, as he strung his harp, whether to celebrate the praises of his god, or his mistress ;-to paint the prowess of his hero in the sanguinary fields of battle, or within the more bloodless arena of the metaphysical and theological contest? In truth almost the whole literature of the Hindus, whether religious or secular-if, indeed, a distinction can be drawn between them,-appeared under the garb of poetry; and the very first lessons taught within the school, and before the child

VOL. XXIII.

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