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and exulting in a species of legislative bondage! Who could tell what the end was to be ? Who could declare what would become of this fantastic structure, when the inert masses on which it was built should become in stinct with motion and life-when the breath of the agitator should summon into activity the slumbering energies that had so long been spell-bound ? Who could then foresee distinctly what would now seem such an inevita. ble result? And if that end was visible to Dr. Madden's mental ken, the time was not propitious for any such disclosure of his views as would have alarm. ed the jealousy of our rulers; who would fain keep this country in as great subjection to England, as the Popish were to the Protestant party in Ire. land. The then recent examples of Swift and Molyneux, afforded but lit.
tle encouragement to any one who might be disposed to speculate upon his country's independence. And he, therefore, wisely contented himself with doing what he could, by aiding, both with his purse and his personal influence, in every project by which Ireland might be advanced in social and intellectual improvement-while he indulged the bent of his genius, as the reader has already seen, in those conjectures respecting foreign states, which are marked by such prophetic shrewdness; a liberty which he could not take nearer home, without alarming the fears, and provoking the jealousies, of many amongst the great and powerful; and probably drawing down upon himself a suspicion of Jacobitism, or, of being a mover and contriver of sedition, and an enemy to the settlement at the Revolution.
LAYS OF MANY LANDS. No. VI.--THE KALENDER-MOTHER AND SON-ELLEEN
A-RIIN-ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF SULTAN SULEIMAUN TAE MAGNIFICENT
JAMES M'GLASHAN, 21 D'OLIER-STREET.
SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.
Our readers are requested to take notice that, by an error of the press, pages 563 to 578, inclusive, will be found to occur twice in the present number.
With reference to an article in our last number, in which (at page 387) the Chevalier Bunsen is represented as taking a prominent part at the great meeting of the Evangelical Alliance in London, we are requested by the Rev. Robert Wood Kyle, who acted as one of the secretaries on that occasion, to state, that the Chevalier Bunsen, though present at the public meeting in Exeter Hall, was never recognised as a member of the Alliance, nor was he present at any of the meetings where members only were admitted.
CHAPTER I.-A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE AMONG THE RUINS OF MYCENÆ.
There is a plain, wide and extensive, whence none have come forth, and beautiful as it is desolate, which lies where none have entered, except, it for ever basking in the light of may be, the mournful ghosts of the Eastern skies; where the soft winds, ancient departed, as they passed and freighted with the sweet odours stolen repassed, to visit the habitation of their from the far-off burning climes, pass clay. And daily has the first bright on unheeded with their fragrance ; sun-ray stolen down upon the giant and where no sound is heard save the sepulchre, where reposed the royal faint voice of the distant waves, that corpse of him, whom Homer styled seem to wail feebly like the lamenting the King of Men ; but of living things of spirits that cannot rest. All around there is none, save one huge serpent stands a noble rampart of lofty hills; that haunts these stately ruins, and on one side, the deep purple hue of sits, coiled on a mighty pillar's base, that flowery waste seems to merge like the emblem of that sin, for whose imperceptibly into the yet deeper blue sake the cities of the earth are shaken of the gently undulating sea; and on from their centre, and swiftly over. the wildest and most desert spot in all thrown. that desert plain there lie the ruins of To-night, the cold, bright moonan ancient city.
beams nestled quietly amongst these Three thousand three hundred years huge Cyclopean ruins, and glittered has that ancient city lain there even steadily upon the stupendous blocks of as we now behold it, unchanged and those mysterious structures, whose undisturbed_since the hour when the original purpose none can now exprogress of its ruin was mysteriously plain. Those moonbeams in the East stayed, and the hand of Decay palsied seem to have a purifying power, in the midst of its destructive work, stolen from the sphere whence they that these stupendous monuments come, which gives a fairer aspect to might traverse, like things imperish. all things on which they beam ; and able, the cycles of unnumbered cen- they had turned the unspotted marble turies, and stand forth before each to a deadly whiteness, and shed a pale living race of men, the solemn, voice. pure light all round that mighty tomb, less witnesses of an unknown past. as though they had veiled it in an etheElsewhere over the face of this our real shroud. In this, the shrine of an world the waves of time have been eternal solitude, the deep silence is violently sweeping, swallowing up the less profound by night than during kingdoms, making a wreck of empires, the sultry day; for then the beasts of and speeding on the generations to prey come howling round the desert their doom; but here there has been city, and the rushing wings of the no change save in the fading of the night-bird disturb the quiet air. And glorious day into the mild and radiant now to these another sound is added, night, or the melting of the morning and the gallop of a swift horse coming loveliness into the glowing light of near, echoes loudly on the plain; it noon. Immovable, impassible, those proceeds directly from the point where, two great headless lions have kept glaring redly amid the fairer moontheir watch over the city's gates, light, there may be distinguished a VOL. XXXII.-NO, CXCI.
fire that has been kindled by human hands; and soon, approaching rapidly upon the hard, dry ground, the horse and his rider enter within the circle of the ancient ruins. They paused before the Gate of the Lions, and the horseman, dismounting, entered on foot into the City of the Dead.
He was a man in the prime of life, wearing a black uniform, with a cap, on which was impressed the symbol of a death's-head, and underneath were in scribed the words, “ Liberty or Death." The fire, which marked the spot whence he had come, had been kindled by his companions in arms; and they were the men forming that gallant and noble company, who shall live in the hearts of their countrymen, whatever may have been their name and desig. nation elsewhere, as the defenders of Greece alone! for this glorious title they won to themselves with the barter of their life, and sealed their right to it in their own blood. They were those young men, Greeks, Philellenists, and volunteers from the various countries of Europe, all in the summer of their days, who, having devoted themselves to the cause of Greece (that beautiful slave pouring out her beart's best blood for the purchase of her freedom), had been formed into a battalion of infantry, which was termed the “ Hieros Lochos,” or sacred band. Once they had been five hundred strong, but four hundred lay stiff in their death-wounds, in the cold swamps of Wallachia. Still those who remained were undaunted and true, as the symbol on their caps well proved, from which they were called “ Mav. rophorites ;” and they were continually reinforced by new detachments from Europe of those noble friends to Greece, who scrupled not to leave their dear homes and dearer friends, to die for a country which had no claim upon them-save that it was oppressed! He who had now traversed that lonely moor to visit the desert city, was an English Philellenist, and he had stolen these few hours of bis needful rest, and left the gay so. ciety of his companions, to wander hither, because that plain was the plain of Argos, and the city was Mycenæ, the seat of the royal Aga memnon's power.
It seems strange to turn from the contemplation of ruins such as these, fragments from the great wreck of
the past, in which, as in hieroglyphics, it has written over the face of this earth the history of its remotest days, to talk of the deeds and sufferings, the hopes and sorrows, of the living generation, that now for so short a time are located in the habitation of this world. But in the records of eternity, the comparative value of all things is measured by a computation very different from ours. We, with our past of but a few short years, and our finite minds that cannot grasp a morrow, are no judges of the greater or the less. We are unable to trace in the present glory or power, the fruit of past events which seemed of little moment, or in the words and deeds of to-day, the germ of future might; we cannot see how much greater is the seed from whence hereafter shall spring a stately tree, than the noblest oak that ever spread its branches to the sky, if it is withering at the heart, and decay in secret sapping its life. If the narrow sphere where one great man a while was seen to move, became the centre of a mighty empire, so might the petty state, where a few thousands gave their lives for freedom, be the focus whence liberty should emanate to many nations. Therefore we may talk of the Greek revolution among the ruins of Mycenæ, and tell how, at the period of which we speak, the sympathies of all Europe were stirred for those brave sons of Greece, still at this hour slaves, at least in name, who had $0 nerved themselves to this one noble struggle.
Two years and more they had wrestled for their freedom_how bravely and how gloriously, they only can tell, yet living who witnessed it, or those who, having since wandered over that restored country, have read the records of its strife in the myriad graves of its soldiers, or the broken hearts of the survivors ; but though not one spark of their generous ardour had been quenched by the blood of their brethren so lavishly shed, still at this juncture Greece seemed destined to be but the altar whereon a mighty sacrifice was offered up to liberty, day by day, and life by life. Yet with one heart had they risen to struggle in that worthy cause, and not the cold hand of death itself could still the throbbing of that universal pulse. Corinth was in the hands of the infidel