And now in fleecy clouds the heav'ns appear.
Again it darts, dreamer, there's naught to fear;
Again, like a proud spirit of the sky,
Though conquer'd, breaking forth in majesty.
Britain, for thee this fearful warning sent,
Oh! mock not foolishly its dire portent;
For now that vice on all her malice wreaks,
Charms on the stage, and in the assembly speaks;
Now that with cheating fires she shameless dares,
Fortunate where virtue once defied her snares;
Again I say, for thee this warning sent,
Oh! mark it well, mock not its dire portent.
F.J.H.
* * * * *
THE SELECTOR,
AND
LITERARY NOTICES OF _NEW WORKS_.
* * * * *
CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE.
(_By the author of Waverley_.)
[We have the pleasure of submitting to our readers, (almost entire,)
one of the stories of the forthcoming _Chronicles of the Canongate_,
it being the second narrative, and the last in the first volume, and
as well as the others, founded on true incidents. The _Chronicles_
are domestic tales; but the _Two Drovers_ should not be taken as a
specimen of the work. Slender as are its incidents, it proves that
"Richard (or Walter) is himself again," for in no vein of writing is
the author of Waverley more felicitous than in delineating scenes of
actual life, splendid as are his narratives of the fairy scenes and
halls of romance: and in the prevailing taste for this description of
writing, we think the Chronicles of the Canongate bid fair to enjoy
popularity equal to any of Sir Walter's previous productions.
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