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to receive the hire of corruption, or debase the other to the habitual practice of dishonesty? That the Yacht Club is also important to the national welfare, as a school of chastity, cannot be doubted.-The hot blood of our luxurious nobility will certainly be cooled down below the fever point, to which indolence and high living on shore heretofore raised it. At least, when a great man is "all alone by himself at sea," whatever may be his meditations, he cannot be practically attacking the cara sposa of a benchfellow in the Senate.

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Subservient to this great society, which may be regarded as the Eton of nautical education, are those preparatory seminaries, the Funny Club and the Sailing Club, on the River Thames. Swift, were he alive, would insist that the former possessed many great "scullers," and that "Roman" of antiquity could compare with them. All in these schools learn the labour of pulling against the stream, and acquire a practical knowledge of what may be done by perseverance. Here, too, they are taught the experience of tacking in time, the inconstancy of gales, and the uncertainty of all that depends not on a man's own exertions. With such establishments, we need not despair of the moral and political regeneration of Old England. With their aid things must go on "swimmingly," and the bark of the state be kept "afloat ;" there will be no want of "pilots to weather the storm," and when all hands are piped, Britain shall again muster such a crew on her deck as will fill her enemies with dread, and carry the glory of her name to the remotest bounds of the earth. Valeant quantum valere possunt.

M.

TO THE LAST LEAF OF AUTUMN.

FRAIL child of Spring, that Summer's sun
Hath warmed, thy race is nearly run;
O'er thee with cutting chillness blow
Brown Autumn's blasts to lay thee low;
On the storm's wing thou soon must fly,
And hurled to earth decaying lie,

All one to thee, now, sun or shade-
"Tis night, thy last damp bed is made!

Once thou couldst flout thy sire the Spring,

In pride of green youth glorying;

Once thy fresh verdure shaded me

From noontide's glowing sovereignty;
But now a zephyr makes thee sigh
And rustle as it passes by ;-

Syllabling, while it marks thy date;

"Fall! fall! sear wretch, and meet thy fate,

"Lone relic of the year's past prime

"Dead nature's scutcheon-wreck of time!"

Forlorn, despised, and quivering,

A wasted, useless, outcast thing,

Drop from thy bough-it is not good

To live alone amid the wood,

Without a friend to share thy pain,
Demanding sympathy in vain.
Who'd bear in solitude the blast,
And curse of friends, to die the last?*

* Ultimus suorum moriatur !

Sad solitary, fall! what share
Canst thou in life or pleasure bear!
No more wilt thou o'ershade the walk
Of lovers in their moonlight talk,
While happy from the eye of day
They breathe love's secret witchery :
Nor spread thy robe empearl'd with dew
In April morn to glittering view;
Nor hide the ring-dove's downy nest;
Nor fan hot summer's panting breast;
Nor to the painted insect be
The shelter of its infancy.
No suns shall e'er again enfold
Thy glossy hue with beams of gold;
For thy dry faded form is clad
Already in death's livery sad.
The storm that rages for its prey,
I hear it howl, is on its way.

O Nature! when will man be wise,
And read thy book with thinking eyes?
The bard can view the leafy bier,
The wintry triumph of the year;
Snatch lessons from such trivial things,
Prompting strange thoughts and visitings
Of man's own darker destiny,

That vulgar visions never see.

The waving leaf his eye can mark,

Its hues so changed-its tints so dark-
Apply them to his kindred state,

And see them point him to his fate.
Lone ensign! last of all the pleasures

The year late marshall'd to its measures,

Sad flag on a wide ocean tost!

Thou tell'st me summer's pride is lost.

Rent as thou art and torn, in thee

The sybil's mystic leaf I see,

Where last, most prized, the lines declare
Too legibly what mortals are.

Yet if I sturdy should remain,

And bide one cruel storm again

I still must crowd a heaped up bier,

Nor haply call, like thee, a tear;
Pass unlamented from my place,
And make room for a greener race.

I'll "bide my time," though small my gain,

A pensive verse, a mournful strain,

And hang a dead leaf by a thread,

With shrivell'd heart and aching head:

A withered scroll, a useless thing,

That may not see another spring;

A tired, ragged scrap of life,

With winds, storms, seasons, time, at strife;
Emblem'd in this poor leaf's decay,

The remnant of a brighter day.

Yes, I'll too "bide my time" and dare
The tempests of the wintry year;
Resign'd like thee, poor leaf, at last
To fall forgot beneath the blast;
But fixed to live my utmost date,
And meet undauntedly my fate!

J.

MARCO BOTZARI,

The Achilles of the modern Greeks.

THE Greeks have just sustained the bitterest loss which has befallen them during the whole of their short, but brilliant contest with the enslavers of their country. Marco Botzari, the Achilles of their causeThe Achilles in all things but his invulnerability-has perished prematurely in the flower of his age and his fame; and has left none behind him that can adequately supply his place. They have still many excellent leaders; but none who unite into one noble whole the various admirable qualities possessed by that distinguished person.

The following is extracted from a paragraph in the Morning Chronicle, which purports to give the substance of a letter just received from Missolonghi :—

"In the neighbourhood of Valto the Greeks had again assembled in considerable force, made a most determined resistance, and compelled the invaders to take the direction of Carpanesi. The Suliotes, having marched upon this place in the end of July, under the command of their illustrious chief Marco Botzari, and having been joined by other chiefs as they advanced, came up with the barbarians on the evening of the 8th of August; and on the next morning, by one of those daring movements for which this nation of Christians has always been so justly celebrated, they gained a great victory over the Turkish army. During this memorable engagement Marco Botzari placed himself at the head of four hundred of his countrymen, penetrated to the centre of a column of five thousand of the enemy, and by his example infused the greatest confidence into his small but determined phalanx of Suliotes. He was severely wounded in the groin, but concealed his situation until, in the heat of the action, he received a musquet-ball in the head, and instantly fell, &c."

"Another account states, that Marco Botzari penetrated to the tent of the Pacha himself, whom he slew, but was wounded by a black servant, faithful to the Pacha, while he was exhibiting the head to his soldiers."

As there is, unhappily, no reason to doubt the fact of the death of this distinguished patriot, it may be interesting to our readers, and, what is of even more importance, it may serve the almost sacred cause which he espoused, if we give a slight notice of his public life and character and we do this the rather, as we have reason to believe that the source from whence we derive our information is the only one at present in this country that is capable of supplying it.

Marco Botzari was the son of the celebrated Kitzo Botzari, a member of one of the principal families of Sulei, and a head of his tribe during their long war with the late Ali Pacha. When this war was terminated, by the fall of Sulei into the hands of the Pacha, Kitzo Botzari retired to the Ionian Islands; but Marco, the subject of this notice, remained in Albania, with several other members of his family, and lived for some time in the most entire obscurity. During this period, no circumstances occurring to call forth any peculiar traits of character, nothing was noted of him but that he was a young man of great personal courage, and with high notions of justice and honour. A trifling anecdote will here illustrate his views on the latter points. A particular friend of Marco's was playing at cards with two persons who were in the service of Ali Pacha, at the time the latter was at Prevesa ; and this friend, in conjunction with one of the other players, had conVOL. VI. No. 35.-1823.

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trived to mark the cards, and thus make a certainty of winning the third. But Marco, who was present, and observed what had been done, openly noticed it ; saying, “ There is no true victory, my friend, but that which is gained by fair skill and open courage."

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It was at the time Ali Pacha was reduced to the last extremity, when besieged in Joannina, (in the latter end of the year 1820) that Marco Botzari first began to distinguish himself as a warlike leader of his countrymen, the Suliotes. At this epocha the Suliotes had leagued themselves with Ismael Pacha, the successor of the deposed Ali, in the hope of recovering their country, which the latter had conquered from them. In this league, under the command of his uncle Noto Botzari, chief head of the Suliote tribe, Marco led several bold and successful attacks against the troops of Ali-chasing them to the very gates of the fortress of Joannina. This league, however, was almost immediately broken, on the discovery that Ismael Pacha,-jealous of the Suliotes once more gaining any head in Greece, had actually employed a company of his Albanian troops to take the field in the rear of the little tribe of Sulei, for the purpose, if possible, of extirpating them altogether.

On the discovery of this perfidy, the Suliotes made common cause with Ali Pacha against the Turks; and in this league Marco displayed, from time to time, the most conspicuous military talents, and became the terror of all the Pachas, and of the Albanians. On one occasion, in particular, with a little troop of about thirty followers alone, he succeeded in dislodging Hassan Pacha, of Negroponte, from the village of Strivina, in the plain of Arta. And on another occasion, with a very inferior force, he defeated and took prisoner a Bey of Gregaria, at the foot of some mountains near Joannina.

Again, when the town of Arta was occupied by the expedition consisting of mixed troops-Greeks and Mahomedan Albanians—who were acting for Ali Pacha, Marco, with a little troop of twenty-five men only, night after night attacked the fortified dwelling of Combotti, which is a place of great strength, and in which were posted the Hasnadar (treasurer) of Chourshid Pacha, and Soultzo Kersca, with two hundred men; and not a night passed that the enemy did not lose several men, either by the boldness and suddenness of his attacks, or by his dexterity in picking them out with his musquet through the windows and other accessible points of the place. Twice, also, he set fire to the building; and had nearly succeeded in mining and blowing it up.

On the defection of the Mahomedan Albanians at Arta, which happened shortly after this, he retired with his own countrymen to the mountains of Sulei.

At the period now alluded to, the distinguished talents and reputation of Marco Botzari had acquired for him the particular notice of Prince Mavrocordato, and the uses to which he applied the influence which these gave him, immediately cemented a friendship between the two leaders; and at the time that the general rising of the Greeks against their Turkish oppressors took place, Marco was the first to submit himself to the regular government that was formed, and to use his almost resistless influence with his countrymen to induce them to follow his example. When it is considered that Marco was (unlike his

brother Constantine) an entirely uneducated man; in the flower and heat of his youth; at the summit of a well-earned fame; and with unbounded influence over the sentiments and conduct of his countrymen ; his thus laying aside all personal and ambitious views, and submitting himself wholly and unconditionally to a newly-formed government,seeking and desiring to hold no higher station in it than that of an humble agent in fulfilling its plans for achieving the liberties of his country, evinces a self-devotion and simplicity of character rarely to be met with even under circumstances which might seem more likely to call it forth.

When Sulei was invested by a formidable Turkish force, and every avenue of entrance or escape was shut up, Marco, who was there, contrived, with a very few of his countrymen, to effect a passage through the Turkish camp, and to reach Messolongio; where, after having collected more troops, he took up a position at Plaka, and the memorable battle fought on that spot again testified his extraordinary skill, valour, and devotion. He fought sword in hand for a great length of time against a party of Mahomedan Albanians; when, after having killed several of their officers, and been himself severely wounded, he lost his horse and baggage, and was again compelled to retire to Messolongio.

When the Suliotes afterwards made terms with their besiegers, he was at Messolongio; and though, aware of the critical situation in which they were placed, he did not disapprove of their resolution to submit themselves conditionally to their enemies, yet he refused to follow their example and retire with them, as he might have done with honour, but resolved to remain with Prince Mavrocordato, conscious that if he had left him, he would have lost that most efficient support which he derived from the opinions of his fellow-countrymen as to the state of their cause, and that the edifice of liberty, which seemed to be just rising from its foundation, cemented by the blood of his fellowsoldiers, would again fall to pieces and go to nought. He therefore sent away his family to Ancona, to avoid the importunities which they were urging upon him, and linked himself, for better for worse, to the fortunes of Mavrocordato and his suffering country.

The most successful, distinguished, and important epoch of Marco's exploits was that which included the siege and storming of Messolongio by the Turks. At this period, when the town was invested on all sides by a Turkish army of fifteen thousand men, he still kept possession of the weak outskirts (for they do not deserve the name of fortifications) in company with his friend Mavrocordato, and with a body of no more than three hundred men-both of them determining to perish in the ruins of the town, rather than willingly abandon it. And it may, perhaps, be attributed to this determination, that the cause of Greece at present bears an aspect of hope instead of despair. In this campaign, with the aid of some slight reinforcements, they occasioned the Turks a loss of three thousand men, and finally saved the town. This latter event was effected purely by a piece of personal valour and conduct on the part of Marco Botzari. The Turkish troops had assaulted Messolongio, and actually gained possession of the outposts of the town,— overpowering for a time the chief body of troops under the command of Botzari, and compelling them to retire to the shore and endeavour

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