For one like you adown the wall to clatter.

But there would be no end to it if we were to go on extracting (tender dentist) such carious specimens as these. Verily, much requires to be done before the English public can know any thing at all about the veritable Faust. We do not pretend to be able to " imitate Goethe closely;" but, in our humble opinion, the following version of the opening soliloquy is more like the original than some of the samples we have given.

FAUST.

All that philosophy can teach,
All that theology can preach,
The lore of lawyer and of leech,
Is mine and now my curse on each!
For here I stand, when all is o'er,
No whit wiser than before,

A fool whose life has flow'd amiss;
Though one thing, to be sure, my lore
Has done for me, and it is this,

I'm class'd with 'masters' and such scum,
And yea, with 'doctors,' by my soul!
And like them I have become
A plodding pedant of the schools,
Into every musty hole,
And up and down through mazes vile,
Leading flocks of docile fools,
And seeing plainly, all the while,
That wisdom will not thus be caught,
That, in his present plight, a man
May strive, but as for knowing aught,

That he neither does nor can.

'Tis true I'm of another stamp Than those who make the schools their camp,

Doubts and scruples never cramp

My soul that soars from weakness free,
And hell is terrorless to me,
But, for this very cause, my lamp

Of joy is sunk as in the sea.
I feel the simplest matter lies
Beyond my understanding's reach;
I have no hope that man will rise
To virtue, or become more wise

By any lesson I can teach.
Then I have neither pelf nor place,
Nor station's claims, nor glory's race,
What dog, with any spark of grace,
Would deign to live in such a case?
Therefore to magic I have flung

My being in despairing hours,
To try if truth may not be wrung
From the lips of spirit-powers,
And myself spared the labour vain,

The forehead wet
With bitter sweat,
When teaching what I can't explain:
That I may view the secret rings

Whose grasp the universe engirds, May know the force that works in things, Not the mere sound that breathes in words.

Oh! would, fair moon! that thou wert shining

The last time shining on my woes. How oft I've waited here, repining Till thy face of beauty rose: And when my papers and my books From thoughts of thee perchance had

won me,

Then would thy pure and peaceful looks

Be lifted * suddenly upon me. While sorrow seem'd to thee to lend The expression of a tender friend, Whose aspect doubts if all be right. Oh! would that I, o'er mountain height, Might wander in thy blessed light, Float across, on spirit-sails, The luminous and gulfy vales,

Weave my being in thy beams,
Which, with dark and lustrous gleams,
Kiss the placid meadow-streams,
And, bathing in thy dewy springs,

Wash out the curse which knowledge

brings.

I had forgotten where I stood,
But thy walls, thou dungeon-hole,
Awake me to a sob'rer mood,
And I curse thee from my soul!
Here, day and night, I sit begirt
By heaps of literary dirt

Which worms begnaw and smoke be-
stains,

And waste away my baffled brainsHere where God's very light comes hurt And sadden'd through the painted panes

Boxes stuff'd with stones and grasses,
Bottles fill'd with chemic juices,
Foul abortions cramm'd in glasses,
Instruments for which no use is,
Ancestral lumber rare and fine,

Litter'd round in brave neglectThese form the world which I call "mine," And does it not command respect!

But does my serious heart confess
The sense that something is amiss,
The weight of an obscure distress

That checks her health:-my answer's
this,

That man by God is ever told

To lead the life that nature owns; But here art thou 'mid smoke and mould, Beasts' skeletons, and dead men's bones. Up, into wider spheres, my soul, And cast these dismal wrecks aside, And there unrol this mystic scroll Of Nostradamus for a guide : It shall spread out thine eyes afar Through all the boundlessness of space And make thee see how star on star

In millions weave their order'd race. And when thou once hast got the sign Which only nature's lips can teach, Which barren sense in vain would reach, The spirit-power shall then be thine, And thine shall be the spirit-speech. Ye guardians of the mystic token, Make answer when the spell is spoke

[He throws the book open, and gazes
on the sign of the Macrocosm.

Ha! how my bosom drinks the flood
Of rapture circling there,
My blood grows calm as infant's blood,
My breath as infant's prayer,
I feel such promises as bud
When spring is in the air.

Was it a god who framed the spell
That bids my troubles cease,
And turns my heart into a well
Of happiness and peace ?
Am I agod? I'm fill'd with grace,
I've got within the inner shrine,
The veil is up from nature's face,
And all her mysteries are mine.
I fathom now, and read aright
The necromancer's words of might :--

"A spirit-world encircles thee,
The Genii have not fled,
Thine is the eye that will not see,
And thine the heart that's dead.
Would'st thou be taught to disabuse
The heart that's dead, the eye that's
dim,

Then rise when first the sun renews
His course above the ocean's brim,
And bathe thy breast in ruddy dews
That drip from off his mighty rim."

[He continues gazing intently on
the sign.

In continuation of Faust's soliloquy, we here draw upon Dr Anster for a passage, which, we rejoice to say, commands our most unqualified praise and admiration. O, si sic omnia ! We candidly confess it is far beyond any thing to which our powers are competent in dealing with the same passage. Faust resumes :Oh! how the spell before my sight Brings nature's hidden ways to light: See all things with each other blendingEach to all its being lending,

All on each in turn depending-
Heavenly ministers descending,
And again to heaven up-tending-
Floating, mingling, interweaving,
Rising, sinking, and receiving
Each from each, while each is giving
On to each, and each relieving
Each, the pails of gold, the living
Current through the air is heaving:
Breathing blessings see them bending
Balanced worlds from change defending,
While every where diffused is harmony
unending.

With this harmonious close we stop for the present, without going into any further details respecting either the original "Faust," or these translations. But it is possible that we may return ere long to the subject, for we know that there are other versions in the wind, and "where the bungler is, there will the critics be gathered together;" so let future translators look to their tackle.

"In the light of precaution," says Gibbon, "all conquest must be ineffectual unless it could be universal; for, if successful, it only involves the belligerent power in additional difficulties and a wider sphere of hostility." All ages have demonstrated the truth of this profound observation. The Romans conquered the neighbouring states of Italy and Gaul, only to be brought into collision with the fiercer and more formidable nations of Germany and Parthia. Alexander overran Media and Persia, only to see his armies rolled back before the arms of the Scythians, or the innumerable legions of India; and the empire of Napoleon, victorious over the states of Germany and Italy, recoiled at length before the aroused indignation of the Northern powers. The British empire in India, the most extraordinary work of conquest which modern times have exhibited, forms no exception to the truth of this general principle. The storming of Seringapatam, and the overthrow of the House of Tippoo, only exposed us to the incursions of the Mahratta horse. The subjugation of the Mahrattas involved us in a desperate and doubtful conflict with the power of Holkar. His subjugation brought us in contact with the independent and brave mountaineers of Nepaul; and even their conquest, and the establishment of the British frontier on the summit of the Himalayan snows, has not given that security to our Eastern possessions for which its rulers have so long and strenuously contended; and beyond the stream of the Indus, beyond the mountains of Cashmere, it has been deemed necessary to establish the terror of the British arms, and the influence of the British name.

That such an incursion into Central Asia has vastly extended the sphere both of our diplomatic and hostile relations; that it has brought us in contact with the fierce and barbarous northern tribes, and erected our outposts almost within sight of the Russian videttes, is no impeachment whatever of the wisdom and expediency of the measure, if it has been conducted with due regard to prudence and the

NO. CCXCII, VOL. XLVII,

to

rules of art in its execution. It is the destiny of all conquering powers to be exposed to this necessity of advancing in their course. Napoleon constantly said, and he said with justice, that he was not to blame for the conquests he undertook; that he was forced on by invincible necessity; that he was the head merely of a military republic, whom exertion was existence; and that the first pause in his advance was the commencement of his fall. No one can have studied the eventful history of his times, without being satisfied of the justice of these observations. The British empire in the East is not, indeed, like his in Europe, one based on injustice and supported by pillage. Protection and improvement, not spoliation and misery, have followed in the rear of the English flag; and the sable multitudes of Hindostan now permanently enjoy that protection and security which heretofore they had only tasted under the transient reigns of Baber and Aurungzebe. But still, notwithstanding all its experienced benefits, the British sway in Hindostan is essentially that of opinion; it is the working and middle classes who are benefited by their sway. The interest and passions of too many of the rajahs and inferior nobility are injured by its continuance, to render it a matter of doubt that a large and formidable body of malecontents are to be found within the bosom of their territories, who would take advantage of the first external disaster to raise again the long-forgotten standard of independence; and that, equally with the empire of Napoleon in Europe, our first movement of serious retreat would be the commencement of our fall. Nor would soldiers be wanting to aid the dispossessed nobles in the recovery of their pernicious authority. Whoever raises the standard of even probable warfare, is sure of followers in India dia; the war castes throughout Hindostan, the Rajpoots of the northern provinces, are panting for the signal of hostilities, and the moment the standard of native independence is raised, hundreds of thousands of the Mahratta horse would cluster around it, ardent to carry the spear and the

Q

torch into peaceful villages, and renew the glorious days of pillage and conflagration.

But it is not only within our natural frontier of the Indus and the Himalaya that the necessity of continually advancing, if we would exist in safety, is felt in the British empire in the East. The same necessity is imposed upon it by its external relations with foreign powers. It is too powerful to be disregarded in the balance of Asiatic politics; its fame has extended far into the regions of China and Tartary; its name must be respected or despised on the banks of the Oxus and the shores of the Araxes. The vast powers which lie between the British and Russian frontiers cannot remain neutral; they must be influenced by the one or the other power. "As little," said Alexander the Great, "as the heavens can admit of two suns, can the earth admit of two rulers of the East."

Strongly as all nations, in all ages, have been impressed with military success as the mainspring of diplomatic advances, there is no part of the world in which it is so essential to political influence as in the East. Less informed than those of Europe in regard to the real strength of their opponents, and far less prospective in their principles of policy, the nations of Asia are almost entirely go. verned by present success in their diplomatic conduct. Remote or contingent danger produces little impression upon them; present peril is only looked at. They never negotiate till the dagger is at their throat; but when it is there, they speedily acquiesce in whatever is exacted of them. Regarding the success of their opponents as the indication of the will of destiny, they bow, not only with submission, but with cheerfulness to it. All our diplomatic advances in the East, accordingly, have followed in the train of military success; all our failures have been consequent on the neglect to assert with due spirit the rights and dignity of the British empire. The celebrated Roman maxim parcere subjectis et debellare superbos, is not there a principle of policy; it is a rule of necessity. It is the condition of existence to every powerful state.

The court of Persia is, in an especial manner, subject to the influence

of these external considerations. Weakened by long-continued and apparently interminable domestic feuds; scarce capable of mustering round the standards of Cyrus and Darius twenty thousand soldiers; destitute alike of wealth, military organization, or central powers, the Kings of Tehran are yet obliged to maintain a doubtful existence in the midst of neighbouring and powerful states. The Ottoman empire has long pressed from the west upon them, and transmitted, since the era when the religion of Mahomet was in its cradle, the indelible hatred of the successors of Othman against the followers of Ali. In later times, and since the Cross has become triumphant over the Crescent, the Russian empire has pressed upon them with ceaseless ambition from the north. More permanently formidable than the standards of either Timour or Gengis Khan, her disciplined battalions have crossed the Caucasus, spread over the descending hills of Georgia, and brought the armies of Christ to the foot of Mount Ararat, and the shores of the Araxes. Even the south has not been freed from ominous signs and heart-stirring events: the fame of the British arms, the justice of the British rule, have spread far into the regions of Central Asia; the storming of Seringapatam, the fall of Scindiah, the conquest of Holkar, have resounded among the mountains of Affghanistan, and awakened in the breasts of the Persians the pleasing hope, that from those distant regions the arms of the avenger are destined to come; and that, amidst the contentions of England and Russia, Persia may again emerge to her ancient supremacy among the nations of the earth.

The existence of Persia is so obviously threatened by the aggressions of Russia, the peril in that quarter is so instant and apparent, that the Persian government have never failed to take advantage of every successive impulse communicated to British influence, by their victories in Hindostan, to cement their alliance and draw closer their relation with this country. The storming of Seringapatam was immediately followed by a defensive treaty between Persia and Great Britain, in 1800, by which it was stipulated, that the English merchant should be placed on the footing of the most favoured nation, and that no hostile European force should be per mitted to pass through the Persian territories towards Hindostan. Every successive addition made to our Indian empire; every triumph of our Indian arms, drew closer the relations between Great Britain and the court of Tehran; and it was not till the wretched days of economy and retrenchment began, till the honour of England was forgotten in the subservience to popular clamour, and her ultimate interests overlooked in the thirst for immediate popularity, that any decay in our influence with the court of Persia was perceptible. In those disastrous days, however, when the strong foundations of the British empire were loosened, in obedience to the loud democratic clamour for retrenchment, the advantages we had gained in Central Asia were entirely thrown away. With an infatuation which now appears almost incredible, but which was then lauded by the whole Liberal party as the very height of economic wisdom, we destroyed our navy at Bombay, thereby surrendering the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf to any hostile power that chose to occupy them; we reduced our Indian army from two hundred and eighty, to one hundred and sixty thousand men, thereby exposing ourselves to the contempt of the native powers, by whom respect is never paid but to strength, and weakening the attachment of the native population, who found themselves in great part shut out from the dazzling career of British conquest; and we suffered Persia to combat, single-handed, the dreadful power of Russia in 1827, and never sent either a guinea or a bayonet to save the barrier of Hindostan from Muscovite dismemberment, These disgraceful deeds took place during the halcyon days of Liberal administration; when the Tories nominally held the reins, but the Whigs really possessed the power of government; when that infallible criterion of right and wrong, popular opinion, was implicitly obeyed; when the democratic cry for retrenchment pervaded, penetrated, and paralysed every department of the state; and when, amidst the mutual and loud compliments of the Ministerial and Opposition benches, the foundations

of the British empire were loosened, and the strength of the British arms withered in the hands of conceding administrations. The consequences might easily have been foreseen: province after province was reft by the Muscovite invaders from the Persian empire; fortress after fortress yielded to the terrible powers of their artillery; the torrent of the Araxes was bestrode by their battalions; the bastions of Erivan yielded to their cannon; and Persia avoided total conquest only by yielding up its whole northern barrier and most warlike provinces to the power of Russia. It is immaterial to us whether these consequences took place under the nominal rule of Lord Liverpool, Mr Canning, or the Duke of Wellington; suffice it to say, they all took place during the government of the masses; and that the principles on which they were founded were those which had been advocated for half a century by the whole Whig party, and which were then, as they still are, praised and lauded to the skies by the whole Liberal leaders of every denomination. The consequences of this total dereliction of national character and interests, in order to gratify the shortsighted passions of an illiberal democracy, rapidly developed themselves. Russia, encouraged by the success with which she had broken the barrier of Hindostan in Central Asia, continued her aggressions on the Ottoman power in Europe. The Turkish fleet was destroyed by the assistance of a British force at Navarino; the Russian arms were carried across the Balkan by British sufferance to Adrianople; and the Ottoman empire, trembling for its existence, was glad to subscribe a treaty which virtually surrendered the Danube and its whole northern defences to the Russian power. Not content with this, the rulers of England, during the halcyon days of the Reform mania, descended to still lower degradation and unparalleled acts of infatuation. When the Pasha of Egypt revolted against the Ottoman power, which seemed thus alike deserted by its allies and crushed by its enemies, and the disastrous battle of Koniah threatened to bring the Egyptian legions to the shores of Scutari, we turned a deaf ear to the earnest prayer of the distressed Sultan for aid. Engrossed in striving to