whom she had been in love, but whom she had given up for a more opulent match. "You see much to remind you of the days that are gone, my dear sister,' said Miss Black tenderly; but when the first impression is over, you will love to look upon those relics, as we do for the sake of those who loved us.' "Never! ah never!' exclaimed Mrs. St. Clair, starting up, and going to the window; every thing here is torture to me—the very air suffocates me.' "She threw open the window and leant out, but it was only to behold other mementos of days past and gone. She looked upon the little garden, the scene of many a childish gambol-it lay in the full blaze of a meridian sun, and all was fair and calm. An old laburnum tree still hung its golden blossoms over a rustic seat at one corner of the garden, and the time since she had sat there and decked herself in its fantastic garlands seemed as nothing. She remembered, too, when, after a long childish illness, her father had carried her in his arms to the garden, with what ecstacy she had breathed the fresh air, and looked on the blue sky, and plucked the gaudiest flowers. 'It was on such a day as this,' thought she; the air is as fresh now as it was then-the sky is as fair-the flowers as sweet ;-but my father-ah! were he still alive, would he thank heaven now as he did then, for having preserved his child!' "And again the bitter drops fell from her eyes as she turned sickening from the view. The chord of feeling had been stretched too high to regain its ordinary pitch without an effort;-it is sometimes easier to break the chain than to loosen it. Mrs. St. Clair felt her mind untuned for ordinary communing, and she therefore took an abrupt leave of her sisters, with a promise of returning soon when her nerves should be stronger. Hurrying through the crowd, collected around the splendid equipage, she threw herself into it as if afraid of being recognized, and called impatiently to her daughter to follow. The postillions cracked their whips-the crowd fell back, and the proud pageant rattled and glittered along till lost to the gaze of the envying and admiring throng." Vol. I. p. 129. The following love dialogue is in another style, but it is spirited, and strange as it is for lovers' lips, is, with reference to the characters, sufficiently natural. Delmour the avowed favourite returns, disturbed by some suspicions of his mistress's inconstancy, and demands an interview. "Gertrude,' cried he, as he seized her hands, while his own shook with the violence of his emotion; now speak my doom-from your own lips only will I hear it-say but the word-tell me I have been deceived-forgotten-forsaken?" "O, no-no-never!' exclaimed Gertrude giving way to tears, as her resentment began to subside at sight of her lover's anguish. "Call it what you will then-but do not rack me by equivocating. Already I have endured tortures for your sake, that worlds would not have bribed me to undergo-despair itself would have been a blessing compared to these distracting doubts.' ""Tis I who have had cause to doubt,' said the countess, as she seated herself at a table, and shaded her eyes with her hand, ashamed of the tenderness her tears betrayed for one, whose constancy she had such cause to question. "You who have had cause to doubt!' cried Delmour impetuously; 'could you then doubt me, Gertrude?' "Had I not cause ?-Why was I left at such a time, when a single word from you "Would have consigned you for ever to poverty and obscurity-Is it not so? You would have been mine, had I been base and selfish enough to have plunged you in ruin-to have sacrificed your happiness to my own!' "Ah! by what a degrading standard did you measure my happiness, if you thought pomp and wealth could ever compensate for broken vows for a deceived heart?-you would have renounced me!' "No, by heavens, I would not-I will not-but, yes you are right, I would—I will renounce you, Gertrude, if by doing so, I can insure your happiness, it matters not though mine be a wreck.' Lady Rossville spoke not-her heart heaved with emotion—and Colonel Delmour leaning against the chimney-piece, contemplated her for some moments without speaking: at length, taking her passive hand, he seated himself on the sofa by her, then, in a voice calmed into tenderness, he said— 66 6 Gertrude, there was a time when not, had an angel spoke, should I have believed that ought on earth could ever have induced me to resign this hand-and even now worlds should not wrest it from me— but, fickle-faithless as you are, why should I seek to retain it?' "Release me, Colonel Delmour,' cried the Countess, in a voice choking with emotion- I have not deserved-I will not listen to such language,' and she struggled to withdraw her hand. "Yet hear me one moment-my fate is on your lips-sell me that our vows are cancelled, and, in doing so, seal my doom.' "But Gertrude spoke not. "Gertrude-in spite of all-dearest-most beloved-I cannot resign you but with my dying breath-why do you impose upon me so cruel a sacrifice?' He unclasped the hand in which he had held hers locked- Why suffer your hand to remain for an instant in mine?— Gertrude, you are free!' "Lady Rossville slowly withdrew it, then raising her head, she shook off the tears which gemmed her eyes, and cast on him a look which spoke all the confiding tenderness of her soul, then, replacing her hand within his, she turned away her head, to hide the blush that mantled her cheek." Vol. II. p. 339. As the authoress has chosen to veil her name, we have too much gallantry to develope her. But we must hope to meet her soon again in her works, which a little less of locality, and more of an English interest, would make additionally popular. We are glad to see that her volumes come from the press of one of the most intelligent and enterprising publishers of her 66 own romantic town." Jerusalem Delivered, an Epic Poem, translated into English Spen➡ serian Verse from the Italian of Tasso. By J. H. WIFFEN. 8vo. London. Hurst, Robinson, and Co. 1824. Few poems ever perhaps excited such attention at their first appearance as the Jerusalem Delivered. During Tasso's confinement at Ferrara, Celio Malaspina, from an imperfect copy in the possession of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, published the first ten Cantos in a mutilated state at Venice in 1580. The poet was highly incensed at this proceeding, and made his complaints to the senate of that state and to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, but without success. In the following year Ingegniere, a friend of Tasso, with a view, as he declares, of vindicating the reputation of his friend, transcribed an authenticated copy and published at the same time two editions, one at Caselmagione, the other at Parma. Malaspina immediately published a still more complete edition. In short in the course of this year there were no less than seven editions published to the great emolument of the editors, and not at all to that of the poet. Such was the avidity of the public that these editions were immediately bought up and six more were published in the ensuing year. The reputation of the poem quickly extended to foreign nations, and various translations soon appeared. In England during the reign of Elizabeth no less than three were made, by Fairfax, by Carew, and by Turberville. The two former were published, and the first of them is well known to most readers, the last, though prepared for the press, is still in manuscript in the Bodleian library; Carew's translation, remarkable for fidelity, was printed in Italian and English in 1594, thirteen years after the appearance of the original. Of these translators, Fairfax is esteemed the most poetical, Carew the most faithful, and Turberville is considered by Mr. Wiffen to occupy a middle station between Fairfax and Carew, more faithful than the former, more poetical than the latter. As Turberville's version is inaccessible to most persons, and as Carew's is very scarce, we shall present our reader with a short specimen of each. Turberville's translation of Canto I. Stanza 2. is as follows: "Come, gentle muse, yet court I not thy lyre, This is very pleasing and harmonious versification, and superior to Fairfax's rendering of the same stanza, and bears a greater resemblance to Tasso than Mr. Wiffen's. We proceed to give an example of the stoical fidelity of Carew. He thus renders the description of Armida in Canto IV. "Not Argos, Cyprus, Delos, ere present, Patterns of shape or beauty, could so dear Gold are her locks, which, in white shadows pent, As when new cleansed we see the element, Sometimes the sun shines through white clouds unclear, "The wind new crispels makes in her loose hair, With ivory is sprent and mingled, But in her mouth whence breath of love outgoes, "Her bosom fair musters her naked snow, Whence fire of love is nourished and revives, To eyes, loves thought unstayed yet farther strives, In these stanzas we have examples of the advantages and disadvantages of literal translation, as an instance of the former may be cited the last four lines of the second stanza, and the striking repetition of the word envious, in the third; we find the latter in a few Italianisms, which Carew's over-faithfulness has retained. Of Fairfax, we must honestly confess, we are not very violent admirers, we can read him in many places with pleasure, and we acknowledge that when he lends to Tasso (and he is no churl) he often lends beauty, but to say with the critics quoted by Mr. Wiffen, "that Fairfax never deviates from Tasso but to add some new graces to what is already graceful, never interwove fresh images but to shed beauty over the original, never once adapts his own original thought to his author, but with congruity and elegance" passes all bounds. In a multitude of instances our organs are so obtuse as not to be able to perceive the grace added to, or the beauty shed over the original. In Canto II. Stanza 16. Tasso says of Sophronia: "La vergine tra il vulgo uscì soletta, which Fairfax renders thus gracefully. "And forth she went a shop for merchandize Same Canto, Tasso speaking of Clorinda's crest says: Fairfax, "Insegna usata da Clorinda in guerra, Onde la credon lei." "By which bright sign well known was that fair inn." Next stanza, Tasso has: "Fera agli uomini parve uomo alle belve." For this Fairfax gives the following graceful deviation : "The Satyrs rough, the Fauns and Fairies wild, She chased oft, oft took and oft beguiled." Not to multiply examples though they occur in profusion, we shall give but one more from the same Canto: |