pletely destroyed their ascendancy. Previous to that result the author of the poems had been for many years an exile.

Of the native versification we can say but little, as our translations are made from the Spanish: some form of rythm must have been observed, for we are informed that the Mexican poets were in the practice of introducing interjections and words destitute of meaning to complete the metre.

The following little piece bears internal evidence of being composed on contemplating the fate of the able usurper Tezozomoc. It is at least as good in its kind as any thing we find in MacPherson's Ossian

"Listen with attention to the lament which I, the king Nezahualcoyotl, speaking to myself, have made concerning the lot of empire, and exhibit to others as a warning.

"Oh, turbulent and restless king, when death has overtaken thee, thy subjects will be destroyed and despised, they will find themselves in deep perplexity, and then it will not be thy power which rules the empire, but God the Creator all-powerful.

"Whoever has seen the palace and court of the old king Tezozomoc, and the prosperous and powerful condition of his tyrannical dominion, at present dry and withered, would have believed that it would have endured for ever, but every thing this world offers is mockery and delusion, since every thing wastes and finishes.

It is saddening to contemplate the success which followed the policy of this old and infirm monarch, who, like a willow watered by cupidity and ambition, rose above and lorded over the weak and humble. His spring time offered him meadows and flowers, and long did he enjoy them; but at last worm-eaten and dry the whirlwinds of death arrived, and uprooting him scattered his fragments over the soil. The fate of the ancient king Colzastle was not more dreadful, for there is no memorial of his house or lineage.*

"At present, by this plaintive song, I awake the memory and warning example of what happened in the season of flowers, and at the end of the career of Tezozomoc long as he enjoyed his

prosperity. Who is there who in listening, however hard-hearted he may be, can refrain from tears, since abundance of riches and variety of enjoyments, are like bouquets of flowers, which pass from hand to hand, and at length lose their leaves and wither from before us.

1

"Sons of kings and powerful chiefs, reflect upon that which in my mournful song I have set before you, when I call to mind that which happened during the flourishing spring season, and the last end of the powerful king Tozozomoc, when I again repeat who will be so cruel as to refrain from tears, since the abundance of various flowers, and the greatest pleasures are but bouquets which wither and die before us.

"Nevertheless the talkative birds by their melody enjoy the beauty of the opening season: every thing is like the bouquet which passes from hand to hand, and at last withers and dies from before us."

The foregoing little poem, which we have in some degree abridged (by omitting the tautologies of the Spanish translation,and the paraphrastic expansion of the French one), was composed by the king of Tezcuco on contemplating the ruin of the usurper's family and nation. The following elegy, in a still more melancholy strain, and still more characteristic of the Indian mind, appears to have been suggested by the destruction of Azcopozalco, the capital of the usurper's kingdom. The old usurper (Tezozomoc), as we have mentioned in the foot-note, lived for some years in a state of decrepitude, during which his mind lost nothing of its vigour. He was succeeded by his son, who exceeded his father in cruelty. The legitimate king of Tezcuco was an exile, and his father had been mur

dered by the old usurper. The legi

timate heir (the author of these poems) after several years' exile, was restored to his throne by the aid of the neighbouring states. The usurping prince was killed, and his capital destroyed.

"The decaying splendours of the world are like the green willows which, although they may aspire to maturity, at last an unforeseen fire consumes them,

the sharp hatchet cuts them down, a whirlwind uproots them, or age and decrepitude bend and disfigure them

"The purple resembles the rose in complexion and fate. The tints of both only last as the chaste buds board up some portions of the rich pearls with which the morning decorates them, and carefully distributes them in liquid dew. But scarcely has the father of all livingt directed upon them the slightest ray o his light, than he despoils them of their luxuriant beauty, and sends them wither.. ing, instead of the purple and flaming colours in which they were so proudly robed. The lovely commonwealths of the flowers measure their dominion by brief periods: that which in the morning was proudly erect in form, vanity, and power, in the evening laments its fallen throne, its decay, death, and the tomb.

Every earthly thing has its term: in the midst of the most festive career of their pride and splendour, their breath is stopped, they fall, and are thrown into the grave. The wide circumference of the earth is but a sepulchre; there is nothing unless sustained by piety, but will be lost and buried.‡

"The rivers, streams, and fountains flow onward, none of them return to their slender source, they hasten recklessly to the vast realm of Zlalve,§ and the nearer they approach his wide-extended borders, (the sea-shore,) the deeper they excavate their own gloomy urn for their funeral. That which was yesterday is not to-day, and no one can tell what is to be on the morrow.

"The funeral vaults are filled with infected dust, which once were the bones of living bodies which sat on thrones, under canopies, presided in assemblies, commanded armies, conquered kingdoms, possessed treasures, received honours, flattered by fortune, majesty, and dominion. Their glories

are passed like the dusty smoke thrown from the Tartarian fire of Popocatepec || with no other memorial of their existence than the parchments on which their history is written. Alas! if I introduce you into the obscure recesses of these catacombs, and inquire of you which are the bones of the first leader of the old Toltecs,¶ of Necaxemitl, the reverend worshipper of the gods; if I should inquire of you where is the incomparable beauty of the glorious empress Xiuhtzal, or the pacific Topiltzin, last king of the unfortunate monarchy of the Toltecs ;** if I inquire where are the sacred ashes of our first ancestor Xolotl, the magnificent Nopaltzin, and the generous Tlotzin, and even the ashes yet warm of my father, so glorious and immortal in spite of his misfortunes; if any one address to you such questions respecting your illustrious ancestors, what can you reply unless indepohdi indepohdi,' I know nothing, I know nothing, for first and last they are mingled with the earth, as we will be, and they who follow.

"Let us aspire, invincible princes, brave captains, and as faithful friends, loyal subjects, let us aspire to heaven, for there every thing is eternal, nothing decays. The horror of the grave is (to us) but an agreeable cradle to the sun, and the funeral shadows are brilliant lights to the stars. No one can deface those celestial hieroglyphics, for they in the most immediate manner display the immense majesty of their author, and they are the cause why our eyes behold what our fathers saw, and our descendants will perceive after us."‡‡

The next poem is of a less melancholy nature-it was composed by the prince who is the author of the two preceding ones. The Spanish ver

§ The god of the water.

mountain.

**

‡‡ Alluding to the volume of nature.

sion is probably a very correct one, as it was made by an Indian prince, the grand nephew of the poet, and who was equally versant in the two languages::

"1. I desire to sing for a moment, since I have opportunity and leisure,and I hope to be listened to with kindness, for my good intentions deserve that favour. I begin my song, which should rather be called a lament.

"2. And thou my beloved friend, enjoy the beauty of these flowers and rejoice with me, cast aside the appreEension of evil, for pleasure is meeted cut to have its end with an unhappy life.

"3. I keep time while singing to the sounding musical instrument. Thou enjoying the beauty of flowers, dance and celebrate the powerful god (the sun). Participate in the present happiness for human life is fleeting.

"4. From Ochlacan, where thou hast chosen to establish thy noble court, thou hast willed that thy throne should be adorned with rich tapestry, from which I infer that the empire will increase in magnitude and renown.

"5. Prudent Oyoyotzin, illustrious king and monarch, enjoy the present good which the flowering season gives thee, for a day will come when you will seek for happiness and joy.

"6. Then a day will come which will snatch the sceptre from thy hand, thy moon of happiness shall wane, thou wilt not then be so powerful and glorious, then thy dependents will be deprived of all their prosperity.

"7. In these melancholy circumstances, the noble brood of thy nest, who are the strength of princes, those who are descended from noble parents, will forsake thy chieftainship and taste the bitterness of destitution.

"8. They will preserve the memory

of thy vanished greatness, which cause the envy of all thy victories, and triumphs, and lost power; reflecting on their ills they will shed floods of tears.

"9. Thy progeny who have served thee in plumes and coronets when deprived of the will, emigrate to Calhuacan, and regarded as exiles, their ills will be the more acute from the reflexion.

"10. This powerful dynasty, worthy of a thousand crowns and honours, will be neglected by fame. The nations will only remember those who governed with 'ustice even the three capitals which maintain the honour of the empire.t

"11. In the illustrious Mexico, Montezuma is the pride of Indian valour; in happy Colhuacan, Nezahualcoyotl reigns; at Acataplan, the strong Toloquil is the protector.

"12. I am not afraid that any one forgets the beneficent administration of thy reign, where thou wast placed by the hand of the governor of the world who acts wonderfully.

"13. Enjoy then, Nezahualcoyotl, the utmost good which you still possess, crown thy illustrious forehead with the flowers of this delightful garden, listen to my song, accompanied by music, as its object is to delight thee.

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14. The pleasures of this life, its wealth and honours, are only lent-they are only feigned goods, having only the semblance of reality. This is an important truth, and you cannot reply to this question.

15. What has become of Cihuapan, of Comtzin the brave, and Conahuatzin? What remains of them all? Their name, and perhaps they have passed to another life this is all we

know.

"16. God grant that we, who are still connected by the feeble thread of love, that we treasure up friendship. We see the cruel hand of death, for there is no certain good, and the future is always uncertain."

Shakspeare.

Beggar's Opera.

John Bunyan.

A VERY curious paper might be made, by any one who, after an absence of some years from Ireland, should chronicle his new impressions of the country, and compare them with his old ones. The changes time works everywhere, even in a brief space, are remarkable, but particularly so in a land where every thing is in a state of transition-where the violence with which all subjects are treated, the excited tone people are wont to assume on every topic, are continually producing their effects on society-dismembering old alliances- begetting new combinations. Such is the case

with us here; and every year evidences by the strange anomalies it presents in politics, parties, public feeling, and private habits, how little chance there is for a prophet to make a character by his predictions regarding Ireland. He would indeed be a skilful chemist who would attempt the analysis of our complex nature; but far greater and more gifted must he be, who, from any consideration of the elements, would venture to pronounce on the probable results of their action and re-action, and declare what we shall be some twenty years hence.

Oh, for a good Irish “ Rip van Winkle," who would at least let us look on the two pictures-what we were, and what we are. He should be a Clare man-none others have the same shrewd insight into character, the same intuitive knowledge of life; none others detect like them the flaws

and fractures in human nature. There may be more mathematical genius in Cork, and more classic lore in Kerry; there may be, I know there is, a more astute and patient pains-taking spirit of calculation in the northern counties; but for the man who is only to have one rapid glance at the game, and say how it fares-to throw a quick coup d'ail on the board, and declare the winner, Clare for ever!

Were I a lawgiver, I would admit any attorney to practise who should produce sufficient evidence of his having served half the usual time of apprenticeship in Ennis. The Pontine marshes are not so prolific of fever, as the air of that country of ready-witted intelligence and smartness; and now, ere I return from my digression, let me solemnly declare, that for the opinion here expressed I have not received any money or moneys, nor do I expect to receive such, or any place, pension, or other reward, from Tom Steele or any one else concerned.

Well, we have not got this same western" Rip van Winkle," nor do I think we are likely to do so, for this simple reason, that if he were a Clare man, he'd never have been caught "napping;" so now let us look about us and see, if on the very surface of events we shall not find something to our purpose. But where to begin, that's the question: no clue is left to the absentee of a few years, by which to guide his path. He may look in vain even for

the old land-marks which he remem

bered in boyhood; for somehow he finds them all in masquerade. The goodly King William he had left in all the effulgence of his Orange livery, is now a cross between a river-god and one of Dan's footmen. Let him turn to the Mansion-house to revive his memory of the glorious hip, hip, hurrahs he has shouted in the exuberance of his loyalty, and straightway he comes plump against Lord Mayor O'Connell, proceeding in state to Marlborough-street chapel. He asks who are these plump gentlemen with light blue silk collars, and well-rounded calves, whose haughty bearing seems to awe the beholders, and he is told that he knew them of old, as wearing dusky black coats and leather shorts; pleasant fellows in those days, and well versed in punch and polemics. The hackney coaches have been cut down into covered cars, and the "bulky" watchmen reduced to new police. Let him turn which way he will let it be his pleasure to hear the popular preacher, the eloquent lawyer, or the scientific lecturer, and if his memory be only as accurate as his hearing, he will confess" time's changes;" and when he learns who are deemed the fashionable entertainers of the day-at whose boards sit lords and baronets most frequently, he will exclaim with the poet

"Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick's six feet high.'

Well, well, it's bad philosophy, and bad temper too, to quarrel with what is; nowhere is the wisdom of Provi dence more seen than in the universal law, by which every thing has its place somewhere; the gnarled and bent sapling that would be rejected by the builder, is exactly the piece adapted for the knee timber of a frigate; the jagged, ill-formed rock that would ill suit the polished portico, is invaluable in a rustic arch; and perhaps on the same principle, dull lawyers make excellent judges, and the people who cannot speak within the limits of Lindley Murray, are admirable public writers and excellent critics; and as Doctor Pangloss was a good man "because he knew what wickelness was," so nothing contributes to the detection of faults in others, like the daily pracVOL. XXI.-No. 121.

tice of their commission by ourselves; and never can any man predict failure to another with such eloquence and impressiveness, as when he himself has experienced what it is to "be damned."

Here I am in another digression, and sorry am I not to follow it out further; but for the present I must not-so now, to try back: I will suppose my absentee friend to have passed his" day in town," amazed and surprised at the various changes about him; I will not bewilder him with any glance at our politics, nor puzzle him with that game of cross corners by which every one seems to have changed his place; nor attempt any explanation of the mysterious doctrine by which the party which affects the strongest attachment to the sovereign, should exult in any defeat to her armies; nor how the supporters of the government contribute to its stability, by rabid attacks on its members, and absurd comparisons of their own fitness for affairs, with the heads of our best and wisest. These things he must have remembered long ago, and with respect to them, we are pretty much as we were; but I will introduce him to an evening party-a society where the elite of Dublin are assembled ; where, amid the glare of wax lights, and the more brilliant blaze of beauty, our fairest women and most gifted and exalted men are met together for enjoyment. At first blush there will appear to him to have been no alteration nor change here. Even the very

faces he will remember are the same he saw a dozen years ago: some pursy gentlemen with bald foreheads or grey whiskers who danced before, are now grown whisters; a few of the ladies who then figured in the quadrille, have assumed the turban, and occupy an ottoman; the gay, laughing, lighthearted youth he formerly hobnobbed with at supper, is become a rising barrister, and has got up a look of learned pre-occupation, much more imposing to his sister, than to Sir Edward Sugden; the wild, reckless collegeman, whose name was a talisman in the "Shades," is now a soft-voiced young physician, vibrating in his imitation of the two great leaders in his art, and alternately assuming the "Epic or the Lake" school of physic. All this may amuse, but cannot amaze him: such is the

I