and there enjoyed the magnificent prospect so well described by Brydone. As they had already seen Vesuvius, it only remained for them to visit Stromboli, which they sailed for, after having seen Messina they then visited Reggio, and the coast of Calabria, returned to Catania and Syracuse, where Mr. Tommasini quits us, and embarks for Malta.

These Letters are, on the whole, agreeable: they contain the observations and reflections of a young man, who is neither painter, sculptor, architect, or musician, and without any pretensions to connoisseurship in any of these arts. He is merely, like his countrymen in general, well read in the classics. He has a Homer and Theocritus always in his pocket; and he has all that longing after, and strong enjoyment of, the sea, and the rich vegetation and brilliants lights of the south, which we believe to be stronger in the bosom of the German than of any other people of Europe. Politics he meddles little with; he directs, indeed, some raillery at the absurd admiration for the rudeness and ruggedness of ancient German manners, prevalent among a certain class of his countrymen, yet he animadverts in proper terms on the vile and wretched system of government under which this noble island languishes.

ART. X. Chinese Courtship. In Verse. To which is added an Appendix, treating of the Revenue of China, &c. By Peter Perring Thoms. 8vo. pp. 339. 12s. Boards.. London, Parbury and Co. Macao, China: printed at the Honourable East India Company's Press. 1824. In no country is literature so strenuously encouraged and so splendidly rewarded as in China. It is not only a passport to fame among a people exceedingly vain of intellectual superiority, but it leads to rank and to office. Every three years public examinations are held throughout the provinces; and the students who signalise themselves by the greatest display of talents and acquirements, are appointed by the government to such situations as are vacant, or kept in reserve, as a separate and exalted rank in the state, for the performance of such duties as the Emperor may think fit to confide to them. This system has prevailed for many centuries in China, though it has not been uniformly carried into effect in the spirit of its original institution; for, at the close of the Han dynasty, a considerable revenue was derived from the open sale of situations under the government; an abuse that was continued under the reigning family until 1822, when, in consequence of a strong remonstrance of the principal ministers, it was thoroughly reformed. Originally, even the permission to purchase public appointments was intended for the consolation and support of those literary candidates who were conspicuous for merit, and had failed to obtain the highest prizes at the triennial examinations. But other persons, not addicted to literary pursuits, soon availed themselves of their

wealth, in order to acquire rank and office; and to such an extent did this corrupt practice prevail, that thousands of students who had won the first distinctions were left for years without any employment in the state, and many were consigned to utter neglect.

Not only, however, has this grievance been removed under the present reign, but several regulations requiring certificates of honourable lineage, which were deemed rigorous, as they interfered with the claims of personal merit, have been modified; and, at this moment, literature stands restored in China to more than her former' honours. Seeing the important consequences to which it led at all times in that country, we shall not be surprised to find that it has been, and continues to be, cultivated there, as a sort of profession, more extensively than in any other part of the world. How far the Chinese have succeeded in raising its character, is a question that we can hardly decide, as our associations and models of excellence are wholly different from theirs. But in every rank of life, in almost every province of that vast empire, it appears that individuals devoted to study and to the practice of literary composition are to be found. Even young ladies aim at applause in this way, without subjecting themselves to the charge of blueism. The Chinese have a collection of celebrated songs written by "a hundred beautiful women;" a double triumph, of which few other nations, we apprehend, can boast.

The following account of the progress of Chinese poetry is given in the preface to the Tang-she-ho-keae, a collection of short stanzas, for the use of literary students:

"Poetry did not commence with the writers of the odes which form the work called She-king, for the Teen-mo, a work on poetry, existed much earlier. From that period, the writers of poetry continued to improve till the publication of the She-king, which Confucius denominated a King, or Classical Work, a standard for succeeding ages. In the order of succession, the works of Le-saou, formed a new era in Chinese poetry, which lasted till the Han dynasty, when the poets Loo and Le introduced the metre of five monosyllables. From the reign of Heen-te, (close of the three contending nations,) A. D. 552, names of celebrity arose, when every one adopted his own metre. From the dynasty Chin, to the end of the dynasty Suy, (during an interval of about 70 years,) no regard was paid to ancient laws laid down for poetry. At the commencement of the Tang dynasty, poetry made nearer approaches to perfection, and the poets Ching and Sung, who concealed under a plain style its beauties, laid aside the bombast. Their odes when sung had an agreeable effect. When the dynasty Tang was in its splendour, poetry was very generally cultivated, and may be compared to a tree. The three hundred odes (the She-king), its roots; the poetical productions of Loo and Le, its tender sprouts; the compositions during the reign of Heen-te, its branches; during the six dynasties, its leaves; when, from Lang and downwards, its pendant branches bore delicate and beautiful flowers."" Preface, p. x. xi.

The work, of which we have both the original and the translation now before us, is said to be the production of two persons of Canton,

who had acquired high literary honours.' It is longer than Chinese poems usually are, being composed of about seventeen hundred lines. It is written in a colloquial style, said to be peculiar to the province of Kwang-tung, and is very popular. It relates, with great simplicity, the story of a young student, named Leang, who, at an early age, fell violently in love with a maid still younger than himself. The scenes of their courtship are described with great minuteness, and afford, so far as they go, an intimate knowledge of Chinese manners. In the course of his literary career, Leang acquires such distinction that a prudent father, who witnesses his rising fame, offers the student his daughter in marriage, and they are betrothed. Leang next becomes a soldier at the time of a serious rebellion, and receives "golden honours" from his sovereign. His first thought, when he reached the pinnacle of his fortune, was to marry the woman of his earliest choice; to which he was the more readily inclined, as it was reported that the maid to whom he had been betrothed was numbered with the dead. But, behold! the morning after his marriage it turns out that his plighted lover was still alive, and disposed to insist on the performance of his promise. The difficulty is easily removed in China. The King declares it to be his will that Leang should marry again, and consider the two wives as one!' He obeys the royal mandate; and the poem concludes with declaring that the two wives lived in perfect harmony together, and that if all the pleasure they enjoyed were narrated, it would of itself fill a volume.'

The English reader who looks for much of the Asiatic genius in this poem will be disappointed. The figurative illustrations of the narrative are few and remarkably chaste; and, indeed, with the exception of the measure and rhyme of the original, there is little to raise it beyond the ordinary level of prose-composition. The translation by Mr. Thoms certainly does not tend to exalt the poetical merit of the work. But it would be doing him great injustice not to observe that his object seems to have been to give a literal and readable version of the original, without meaning to claim for his lines the character of verse, although they wear the appearance of it. We shall present a single specimen, which may gratify the curiosity of the reader, and at the same time place the merits of the translator in their most favourable light. The name of the fair lady is Yaou-seen, and we shall present her at that interesting stage of the story when she first begins to feel that Leang is not altogether indifferent to her. The scene is entitled, The Mistress and Servants looking at the Moon.' company with her servants, she went on the terrace to gaze at the

• In

moon,

For its globular reflection in the water was beautiful to behold.
As breeze after breeze of the pure wind entered the silken doors,
The shadow of the flowers appeared to dance on the wall:
Yaou-seen, while conversing with Yun-heang, said,
"Each season of the year has its particular beauties;

Since autumn commenced, half a month has elapsed,

Yet a cloud, to the distance of ten thousand lee has not obscured the

bright moon.

"In the stream, during autumn, the moon appears as if contending with the water,

While the mist, by the western cold wind, plays with the tops of the willows."

Pih-yuě, on approaching her mistress' side, thus addressed her, "The splendour of the various seasons urge men to pass year after year.

"Ere long the northern cold breeze will enter your room;

When the stranger will be desirous of adding to the number of his clothes. The flowers from season to season continue to bloom and fade,

So the bright moon, in the course of the year, repeatedly arrives at her full.

"Man, on passing the bloom of spring, soon becomes old,

And the gray hairs, ascending from the sides of the head, hasten to the

crown.

On calling to recollection what passed on the first of the present year, The sun seems, in the twinkling of an eye, to have shone for more than half a year.

"Some time has elapsed, since I planted a row of silken willows, Though small they were then green and reached to the top of my shoulders.

I perceive to-day, the branches have grown long and stout;
Let me count with my fingers, how many years have elapsed.

"The western wind, having of late blown for several days,

I perceive they are blighted, and are stripped of their blooming hue.
I think mankind, in general, resemble those delicate willows,
For on attaining manhood their autumn commences.

"When autumn is passed, the human trunk becomes weak and casts
its leaves,

Who has compassion on it when it appears withered and decayed?
The blighted willows will again experience the return of spring,
But man, as yet, when old has never become young."

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Yun-heang, when Pih-yuě had finished speaking, thus spoke, "Such thoughts we should discard, as the wind disperses the evening's

clouds.

Let it not be said, that the revolutions of the moon and year make us

old:

But let us converse respecting this evening's beautiful moon.

"You say that its splendour illumines every part of the globe,
And that men, by its light, play in concert on the musical strings,
That the lovers of mirth are by it incessantly delighted,
And are drawn by its allurements, as though by the gods.

"Still there are persons whose grief is incessant, and who know of
no relief,

Who moan from anguish, and look towards the goddess Shen-keun.

While those from distant parts, when they think of their native village, Vexed, would gladly destroy the shadow of the full moon." *

Yaou-sëen, on hearing what the two servants said,
Gave vent to the grief of her heart, but dained not a reply.

From that moment, ten thousand seeds of love shot forth,
When she called to the servants to exclude the light of the moon.
On their closing the gause windows, she entered her room,
Where she disrobed herself, and placed her ornaments in the toilet.
'On repairing alone within the curtains of her bed,

She lay her head the whole night on the pillow without taking rest. During the silence of night, she thought on what had occurred that evening;

And whether what Pih-yuě and Yun-heang had said, were true or false.
"Sixteen splendid springs," said she, "has already passed in vain,
And my black hair and handsome appearance cannot last long.
Leang-sang from love to me is become emaciated;

His solitary study is comfortless, and his dreams make him mad.

"I know he is a person who is constant in his affections, Young, handsome, and also a person of talent...

Could I have my wish, I would be married to him,

To him I would be united without the least compulsion."

The coverlid remaining cold, she was restless and unable to sleep, ' Thus distressed she spent the whole night till the dawn of day.'

Mr. Thoms, from his long residence in China, seems to have forgotten somewhat of the construction and orthography of his native tongue. We must, however, commend him for the labour which he seems to have bestowed on this poem, a labour that none can sufficiently appreciate who have never attempted to acquire the Chinese language. The Appendix contains biographical sketches of Chinese ladies, distinguished for their literary accomplishments, none of which, however, possess much interest. There are also attached to the work, by what process of association we know not, some details concerning the revenue of the Chinese empire, which differ materially from the accounts given to us on that subject by other writers. Mr. Thoms states that his information is chiefly taken from official documents; but we are inclined to think that it would find a more appropriate place in his forthcoming History of China, than in an appendix to a story of Chinese Courtship.'

6

* The idea conveyed by the full moon, is, that as the moon wanes and waxes, so does man; he is never at his full, at the height of happiness, till married. Being separated from his partner, he would efface the moon's shadow from regret.'