blockaded the garrison of Seringapatam as closely as his want of artillery would permit. During this time, a determined air of hostility was worn on both sides, the officers of Seringapatam professing a resolution never to deliver up the fort, excepting on the order of Lord Minto only. But, at the end of about a week, the news arrived that the refractory officers at Hydrabad had consented to accept the test of submission imposed on them by the Madras government; and had dispatched messengers, exhorting their brother officers north of the Kistna to follow their example. This event took place on the very day of the melancholy fate of the Chittledroog battalions.

The causes which induced this change of counsels at Hydrabad, seein principally to have been, the unbending firmness of the go. vernment, and the impression eventually produced on the minds of the Sepoys by the recollected visit of Colonel Close. That this last circumstance concurred to produce the effect, is affirmed by the Madras government, and seems corroborated by the strong apprehensions which the Hydrabad officers manifestly entertained of the influence of Colonel Close over their troops, so long as he continued in their neighbourhood. At the same time, it was an auxiliary circumstance, that Lord Minto was daily expected at Madras, and that it was therefore open to the repentant insurgents, while they professed allegiance to the government against which they had immediately rebelled, yet to save in a measure their pride by tendering that profession to the governor general.

But, in whatever manner caused, the defection of the Hydrabad officers from the standard of rebellion was productive of the hap. piest consequences. The party at Seringapatam, after a short négotiation, surrendered at discretion. The test was universally enforced over the southern parts of the peninsula. The detachment, marching from Jaulna to Hydrabad, returned. Even the garrison of Masulipatam submitted. To enter into a minute specification of the steps by which these effects were brought about, would be uninteresting. It may suffice to say, that they happened, and that, when Lord Minto landed at Madras on the 11th of September, he found the rebellion, of which the beginning had been so portentous, already a matter of history.

The measures by means of which these evils were subdued, were confessedly distinguished by great spirit and decision, but surely, by great wisdom also and felicity. Whatever praise might have been due (says one of the fiercest opponents of Sir George Barlow) to the inexorable firmness of his measures-and all would have concurred in yielding praise, had there been even an alloy of justice in them;'-but, in our opinion, those measures were just; because they flowed from just principles. The two

foundations on which the conduct of Sir George Barlow was built, seem to have been, a strong conviction that the civil government ought in all cases to maintain its supremacy, and a strong confidence in the power of the Madras government to carry that maxim into effect. In this confidence he was at first somewhat too sanguine, and his enemies exulted: but the event bore him out, and it is important to observe that, even when he hoped the best, he had fully estimated the worst. So much is acknowledged by Mr. Petrie himself, even when accusing the governor of short sightedness and presumption. Sir George Barlow, (he tells us) at one period assured him, that the discontents of the army were extremely partial, that a considerable number of the troops were untainted by those principles which had misled the rest of the army; but that, whatever the danger might be, he was prepared to meet it; that the contest was now brought to a crisis, and we must see whether the government or the army is superior. We the rather refer to this passage, because the last clause in it has been disingenuously suppressed by some who have quoted the former part in illustration of the folly and blindness of Sir George Barlow's proceedings.

The success, indeed, of the policy adopted by Sir George Barlow, though not conclusive of its wisdom, yet so far affords a presumption to that effect, that it has considerably embarrassed the adverse writers. Mr. Petrie affirms that the army yielded, not to the local government, but to Lord Minto. The notification of his Lordship's purpose to proceed to Madras, and some equivocal expressions in a general order which he published to the army of Bengal, operated, it seems, this wonderful revolution. A strict examination of the transactions which, as related in the parliamentary papers, immediately preceded the submission of the refractory officers, would, we believe, throw great doubt on this statement of Mr. Petrie; but the inference intended to be suggested is sufficiently invalidated by the circumstance, that Lord Minto stood pledged in the most solemn manner to support those obnoxious measures of Sir George Barlow, which the officers had represented as justifying their revolt. The difference, under such circumstances, of submission to the supreme and to the local government, could be little more than a difference in point of form; a saving to their pride, not to their consciences. The author of the Discontents,' however, seems to acquiesce in the opinion which we have cited from Mr. Petrie; but he has added to it two others somewhat amusing. The first is, that the suppression of the disturbances was owing-to parties whom we should hardly have suspected of effecting it-to the disturbers themselves. The love of their country,' (the author says,) 26

VOL. V. NO. 1X.

always present, seems not to have allowed them to think on any plan, which would have injured the state. The second opinion, which would still less have occurred to us, amounts to this, that there was, after all, no disturbance or rebellion whatever -- The success of Sir George Barlow' (observes the writer) has been derived, not from conflict, but the forbearance and non-resistance of his adversaries-a victory without strife. We must confess that the author's own narrative had conveyed to us the contrary impression; and we believed that there had not only been disobedience, resistance, and strife, but hostile marches and bloodshed.

Such is our view of the transactions relating to the late military disturbances at Madras. We say military disturbances; because with these, as the reader probably may know, there were connected, or at least were coincident, certain civil disturbances, which form another head of charge against the Madras government, but of which no notice has been taken in the preceding pages. Any notice of them, indeed, on the present occasion, neither is very necessary, nor would be very possible. It is not necessary, because the military subject is of itself complete; for we must always recollect that the army were the main movers in the affair, and that their objects were not of a civil but of a military nature. It would not be very possible, because the documents requisite to the inquiry are not yet fully before the public. On these accounts, we have, in this article, cautiously abstained from deviating into this second field of discussion, in fully explaining the first.

It

We cannot but mention one circumstance which has rendered us greatly the more ready to express what we can venture to call our unbiassed approbation of the conduct of the Madras government on the points which have here been considered. Sir George Barlow has risen to the elevated office which he occupies, not by the agency of parliamentary connections or court favours; but through the recommendation of long, laborious, and eminent services. is a consequence of this course of public life, that, notwithstanding the local influence conferred on him by his station, his personal interest at home is possibly rivalled by that of many of the individuals whom he has thought himself obliged to displace; probably much outweighed by that of the whole number collectively. It seems, therefore, peculiarly fitting that, as a defence against the clamour by which he is assailed, he should have the benefit of all the honest and independent opinion which can be mustered in his favour.

He is said, indeed, by Mr. Petrie, we know not how truly, to have contracted unpopularity by his cold and repulsive manners.' A deficiency in the charm of demeanour must always subtract

somewhat from the personal influence of a statesman; but it has not therefore prevented many favourites of fame in this class from maintaining a wide empire over the attachments of mankind. It did not, for example, disqualify William the Third for attracting to his banner all the more masculine elements of the European commonwealth, nor snatch from Demosthenes the hearts of half Greece. Whatever unpopularity, however, Sir George Barlow may have acquired, we should be apt, on an authority considerably higher and less suspicious, it may be said without invidiousness, than that of Mr. Petrie, to attribute to a very different cause. Whatever odium' (says Lord Minto) has been malignantly cast upon his name, has been earned by the steady, inflexible discharge of public duty, and by efforts in the Company's service, not in themselves more grateful personally to him than to other men, but falling more particularly by the course of events within the period of his administration. That his sovereign and country will honour the magnanimity and fortitude of the man, and appreciate the value of his eminent services, I cannot doubt; and that obloquy purchased by the pure and inflexible discharge of ungrateful but sacred and indispensable duties, will be effaced in its appointed hour by universal respect and esteem, my confidence in the ultimate triumph of truth and justice persuades me firmly to believe.'

ART. IX. ΑΙΣΧΥΛΟΥ ΠΡΟΜΗΘΕΥΣ ΔΕΣΜΩΤΗΣ. Æschyli Prometheus Vinctus. Ad fidem Manuscriptorum emendavit, Notas et Glossarium adjecit, Carolus Jacobus Blomfield, A. B. Collegii, SS. Trinitatis apud Cantabrigienses Socius. Cantabrigiæ, Typis ac Sumptibus Academicis excudit J. Smith. MCCCX. pp. 160.

HE predilection which the Athenians entertained for the compositions of Eschylus, is well known. With such delight did they listen to them, that even their rage for novelty was overcome; for we learn that a special decree sanctioned the representation of his tragedies after the death of the author. And we may collect from several passages in Aristophanes, how passionately fond the audience were of the rich poetry and sonorous diction so conspicuous in the father of tragedy.

The applause bestowed on Eschylus by succeeding ages has been somewhat more qualified. He seems to have been much less read than either Sophocles or Euripides; and from the time of Quintilian to the present day, the critics have contented themselves with acknowledging his sublimity of conception and grandeur of

expression, while they lament that his style frequently degenerates

into bombast.

The neglect however which he has experienced in modern times appears to us to arise from other causes than his own want of attraction. The language used by him was, even in his own days, of a somewhat antiquated cast, abounding in words either obsolete or exclusively poetical; words not to be found in any other writer, and of which modern Lexicographers have not given so full an explanation, as an industrious examination of the works of their predecessors might have supplied. Nor is this the only difficulty which the reader of Eschylus has to encounter. The ignorance or the carelessness of transcribers has produced gross and unpardonable blunders in the manuscript copies, from which the plays are printed and though the detection of these may be a source of interest and amusement to the verbal critic; yet to the person who reads the poet for the sake of his beauties, they are infinitely vexatious and discouraging. Had the lovers of Greek literature an opportunity of perusing Eschylus in a text of tolerable purity, accompanied with satisfactory explanations and illustrations of his uncommon words, we venture to pronounce that his tragedies would recover something like the estimation in which they were held by his countrymen. It would then be discovered that pomp and sound are not his only characteristics, and that his merits are not merely those of an inventor. His characters are all strongly marked and well preserved; their manners and sentiments, though invested with high tragic dignity, represent the noble simplicity of the heroic age. The moral sentences, with which the writings of this poet abound, are well-timed and appropriate; they do not, like those of Euripides, proceed with scholastic gravity from the mouths of servants and insignificant personages, but command attention from the well sustained dignity of the speaker's character. The style of his dialogue is easy and perspicuous, presenting a happy contrast to that of Sophocles. The reader meets with few difficulties, except such as arise from the use of words of rare occurrence. The flow of his numbers is uncommonly harmonious, and the rich vein of poetry which runs through his scenes makes ample amends for the occasional offence producedby a few turgid expressions. The strong imagery and daring metaphors in which he indulges, betray the Oriental origin of the Dithyrambic style of poetry, in his time prevalent in Greece. It is impossible to read schylus, without being struck with the resemblance which many of his images and figurative expressions bear to some of the most sublime passages of Scripture. In the choruses particularly, the eastern style of poetry appears in all its boldness, and with much of its obscurity. In these parts of the