112 
cle, he observes, we at present are 
indebted to India, Persia, and Turkey, 
for ; and, to prove our capability of fol- 
lowing his advice, assures us he speaks 
’ from several years’ experience of its 
practicability. H. R.’s intentions are 
good, I doubt not; but of his experience 
Iam compelled to doubt, because the 
experiment has been tried in imita- - 
tions of the Turkey carpet for many 
years past. Thousands have been 
expended in bringing our attempts to 
the present state: Axminster carpets 
are the result, and the only imitation 
we can produce. The hairy wool the 
Turkey carpets are made of, we can- 
not procure; nor can we produce the 
dull but never-fading colours they are 
so eminent for. And again, after the 
Axminster carpets are made, on the 
most economical plan, a‘Turkey car- 
pet of the same size can be purchased 
(duty paid,) twenty per cent. less than 
we can make the other for. 
India _ carpets,—a totally distinct 
article from Turkey,—are not sale- 
able; much less a bad imitation of a 
bad article. Persia carpets, I pre- 
sume, he never saw, or he has a plan 
matured for the breeding and feeding 
of countless thousands of silk-worms, 
who are the spinners we must employ. 
All England could not manufacture a 
Persia carpet in twenty years: they 
are composed of a rough bad silk; and 
in Persia a carpet of eight yards square 
would employ ten persons for twelve 
months. Breaking stones for the high- 
way in England, would be a sinecure 
to such employment. ‘ 
Should H. R. produce bis plan, and 
remove the trifling objections 1 have 
raised, and, in reality, prove what he 
asserts, his name will be immortalised 
among the weavers of this town, and 
generations yet unborn will bless his 
name: the lovely belles, whose cause 
he so fearlessly starts in, will crown 
him with never-dying laurels, and, as 
in. duty bound, for his wellare will 
ever pray. CHARLES W. 
Kidderminster ; Aug’. 4. 
—e 
For the Monthly Magazine. 
NEWS FROM PARNASSUS. 
NO, XXVI. 
Don Juan: Cantos 6,7, and 8. 
T seems to have become almost an 
axiom in the literary world, that 
nothing is so painful to the sensibilities 
of an author as the palpable neglect of 
his productions. From this species 
of mortification, no poet has ever, 
Turkey Carpets.—News from Parnassus, No. XXVI. [Sept.1, 
perhaps, been more fully exempt than 
Lord Byron. None of his publications 
have failed in at least exciting a suffi- 
cient portion of general interest and 
attention; and even those among them 
which the scrutinizing eye of criticism 
might deem somewhat unworthy of 
his powers, have never compelled him, 
like many of his poetical brethren, to 
seek refuge, from the apathy and want 
of discernment of contemporaries, in 
the consoling anticipation of posthu- 
mous honours and triumphs. But, if 
we are to infer from the axiom already 
alluded to, that extensive notoriety 
must be pleasing in the same propor- 
tion that neglect is distressing to an 
author, then none of his lordship’s 
productions can afford him so ample 
a field for self-congratulation as the 
“Don Juan.” | Revilers and partisans 
have alike contributed to the popula- 
rity of this singular work; and the 
result is, that scarcely any poem of 
the present day has been more gene- 
rally read, or its continuation more 
eagerly and impatiently awaited. Its 
poetical merits have been extolled to 
the skies by its admirers; and the 
priest and Levite, though they have 
joined to anathematize it, have not, 
when they came in its way, ‘‘ passed 
by on the other side.” How far their 
conduct has been judicious in this 
respect, we cannot now enquire; we 
may, as we proceed, have some re- 
marks to make upon the-nature of the 
opposition this poem has experienced, 
but our business, in the first place, is 
withthe new cantosat present beforeus. 
Those who have read the preceding 
part of the poem will of course recol- 
lect the embarrassing situation in 
which the hero fmds himself placed 
by the unexpected arrival of the em- 
peror, at the very moment when, over- 
come by the mute but resistless 
eloquence of female tears, he is about 
relenting in favour of the enamoured 
sultana. The sixth canto, after a lit- 
tle preliminary morality, gives us the 
sequel of Juan’s adventures in the 
seraglio. The agent by whose means 
he had been introduced, not daring to 
betray the sex of the new comer, is 
obliged to consign him, together with 
the less equivocal beauties of the 
harem, ito the care of their female 
superintendant, “‘the mother of the 
maids,” and trust to the hero’s disere- 
tion for keeping a secret, which, if 
disclosed, would inevitably prove fatat 
to all parties concerned in if. "The 
young 
