« PreviousContinue »
of his men we they were sche enemy hadir guns for
then on fire in three different parts, laid her alongside a French eighty-four; and a second longer obstinate contest began. The firing on the part of the French ship having at length for some time slackened, and then altogether ceased, and yet no sign given of surrender, the first lieutenant came to Captain Ball and informed him that the hearts of his men were as good as ever, but that they were 80 completely exhausted, that they were scarcely capable of lifting an arm. He asked, therefore, whether, as the enemy had now ceased firing, the men might be permitted to lie down by their guns for a short time. After some reflection, Sir Alexander acceded to the proposal, taking of course the proper precautions to rouse them again at the moment he thought requisite. Accordingly, with the exception of himself, his officers, and the appointed watch, the ship's crew lay down, each in the place to which he was stationed; and slept for twenty minutes. They were then roused; and started up, as Sir · Alexander expressed it, more like men out of an ambush than from sleep, so co-instantaneously did they all obey the summons! They recommenced their fire, and in a few minutes the enemy surrendered ; and it was soon after discovered that during that interval, and almost immediately after the French ship had first ceased firing, the crew had sunk down by their guns, and there. slept, almost by the side, as it were, of their sleeping enemy.
Mr. Coleridge continues his interesting narrative through the remainder of Sir Alexander Ball's life. He dwells upon the noble ser. vices he performed in the two years' siege of Valetta, in the island of Malta, his amazing kindness to the Maltese; his wisdom as the governor of the island when it became a British possession; and the unexampled confidence which he enjoyed from the Maltese, who looked upon him as a father.]
GOETHE. The · Faustus' of Goethe has perhaps the widest European reputation of any poem of modern times. There are several translations of it in our own language. Without undervaluing other translations, that of Dr. Anster, of Trinity College, Dublin, (parts of which were originally published in Blackwood's Magazine,) appears to us to combine many of the highest requisites of a good poetical version, with faithfulness and facility. We cannot attempt an analysis of this re
markable drama, which, amidst all its merits, has many passages, and suggests many ideas, which are scarcely within the limits of the pleasurable in poetry; but we subjoin a scene or two, from its commencement, which beautifully depict the feelings of a mind satiated with all worldly knowledge, and aspiring to penetrate mysteries which are wisely put beyond the comprehension of man. The story of. Faustus,' the daring student who made a compact with the powers of darkness, was treated by other German poets before Goethe: and it is the subject of a very remarkable drama by Marlowe, the early contemporary of Shakspere. Goethe was born in 1749; died in 1832.]
Faustus. River and rivulet are freed from ice
All are abroad—all happy in the sun.
Wagner. Doctor, to be with you is creditable-
(Peasants dancing and singing.)
'Tis merry and merry_heigh-ho, heigh-ho,
Blithe goes the fiddle-bow!
“ 'Tis strange that you should use me so,
'Tis rude of you to use me so."
Flying with the flying ring;
Slow, slow, heigh-ho,
Tired in elbow, foot, and toe! “And do not make so free,” she said, “I fear that you may never wed Men are cruel"--and he prest The maiden to his beating breast. Hark! again, the sounds of glee Swelling from the linden tree.
'Tis merry, 'tis merry_heigh-ho, heigh-ho,
Blithe goes the fiddle-bow!
Faustus. Blest be the draught restorative!
· [The people collect in a circle round him.
Faustus. A few steps farther, and we reach yon stone; Here sit we down, and rest after our walk; Here have I often sate in thoughtful mood Alone—and here in agonies of prayer, And fast, and vigil-rich in hope-in faith Unwavering—sought with tears and sighs, and hands Wringing in supplication, to extort From Him in heaven that He would stay that plague. These praises come upon my ear like scornOh, could you read the secrets of this heart, You then would see how little we deserved,