pursue the subject farther; and we should have hardly adverted to it, were it not to be apprehended that the prudent and temperate disposition, recently discovered by the majority of our statesmen, may be rendered less acceptable to the public by high-sounding declamations in favour of war and vigour, on the part of parliamentary candidates for popularity.

MONTHLY CATALOGUE,

For MAY, 1813.

POETRY, &c.

Art. 12. Warwick Castle; a Poem. Embellished with Engravings from Drawings by J. Roe, Warwick. 4to. pp. 47. 5s. Longman and Co. 1812.

"Ut pictura poesis" would in some respects be a correct account of this publication; we mean, that the poet and the landscapepainter have with tolerable exactness represented Warwick and Kenelworth Castles; and that those of our readers who have visited these celebrated spots (forming perhaps the most striking contrast of ruined and of undecayed beauty in architecture, that our country can exhibit,) will recognize the features of each with pleasure. While, however, we praise the design of both artists, the execution of their several representations is by no means so meritorious. In the poetry, indeed, we have many defects to notice. Throughout, it wants spirit, and too often harmony; and the language is not so faultless as it should be in a short and easy effort of versification. Let our readers form their own opinion from these specimens:

Majestic towers! past is now the day,

When giant strength, and brutal force bear sway,' &c. 5.
No guards mount ramparts for defence or state,
But one old Porter keeps each Castle gate.' 6.
And now bold Fancy wild excursion tries,
Spreads her broad wing of Gossamer, and flies
To other days, when Knight with gallant air
By deed of arms did woo some Lady fair,' &c.

II.

As the bard is proceeding to ascend Guy's Tower, in Warwick Castle, he checks his lofty flights of imagination with the following. truly sensible remark:

But dangerous now vagaries in the head.'

Again, when he fears that his strain is too morose and unsocial, he subjoins,

But these are queries of an eremite.”

The beauties of Guy's Cliff deserve the profusion of epithets (namely, romantic, sweet, calm, delightful, elegant,') which the author showers on this classical residence of Mr. Greatheed, in one

couplet.

couplet. He takes no notice, however, of the fine specimens of painting, (the works of a lamented son of the proprietor,) which adorn the interior of this singularly attractive mansion. Leamington, and its lately increasing popularity as a watering-place, are not forgotten; nor, indeed, any part of the more interesting environs of Warwick. If a second edition of this "Warwick Vade Mecum❞ appears, let the author erase the following distich:

'Leave me my cottage, competence, and verse,

I ask no more than to deserve no worse,' as well as the note about faith and good works.

Art. 13. The First Epistle of Ovid translated; and Minor Poems. 8vo. 28, T. Hamilton. 1812.

1

This little pamphlet (for it consists of only thirty-seven pages) is dedicated to Capel Lofft, Esq., the learned patron of literature.' In the Preface, or rather the Advertisement prefixed to the poetry, we are informed, that the small portion of knowledge which the author possesses has been acquired by sedulously improving those interstitial vacancies' (Dii boni! What a phrase!) which a life, spent in business or domestic concerns, has afforded.' This ominous introduction is followed by a very adequate display of rhymes. What motive can induce people to publish such verses as the subjoined?

To thee, Ulysses, slow to bless my sight,
Does thy Penelope this letter write;
Yet not an answer with thine hand prepare,
But come and let thy lips thy fate declare.'

"Hanc tua Penelope lento tibi mittit Ulysse ;
Nil mihi rescribas, attamen ipse veni.”

Enough of the translation:' let us now refer for a moment to the • Minor Poems.'

ODE TO GENIUS.

"Where dost thou, Genius, lofty pow'r!

Thine habitation hold;

Below does thy high palace tow'r,

Built of terrestrial mould :

Or liv'st in upper regions bright,

Where never ebbs the tide of light:

Or not confined to place

Through the immense of space,

Dost thou, excursive spirit! take thy way;

To the far distant worlds thy visit pay,

And of stupendous universe the extended bounds survey?

Spirits, they say in the schools, are not in loco, but ubi. Whatever they may mean by this, it is clear, according to the present writer, that spirits may "pay visits" any where; and consequently, we presume, they may be at home to a select party on any occasion, wherever their home may be, through the extended bounds of stupendous universe.' Truly, this is very sorry stuff.

REV. MAY, 1813.

Art. 14. Oxoniana ;a Didactic Poem, in several Letters on the late improved mode of Study, and examination for Degrees in the University of Oxford. By a Cambridge Master of Arts. 8vo. pp. 98. 6s.. sewed. Bickerstaff.

1812.

From the aukward and barbarous language of this unconnected rhapsody, we expected, as we toiled along, that we should discover the false pretensions of the author to any personal knowlege of the Universities which he severally represents and reproves: but alas! he really seems to be a son of Alma Mater, from his acquaintance with her forms and discipline, as she presides over each of these institutions. Whether Cambridge has to suffer by his claim of relationship, or whether in fact he be an unworthy Oxonian, we are at a loss to decide. However this may be,

"Granta suum renuit, Rhedycina refugit alumnum.”

Not only is he a gross offender in expression, but his versification is more incorrect than any which in these musical days it is usual to encounter. A few extracts from any part of the book will sufficiently confirm our censure:

• Redolent of duty, on religion's plan,

They know to vindicate God's ways to man.
Not so to vindicate what burning zeal
Gives by abstracted faith weak minds to feel,
When laden by their sins they bode no fear,
Since visionary saints their prospects cheer.
And Jesus, hand in hand, and cheek by jowl,
Pours drops of brandy into sinner's soul;
Thus spirit-renovated, they exhale
Crude eructations, indigested, stale,
Endors'd predestinators, by their head
Calvin! no sleeping partner in the trade.
First of the firm, on enlarg'd principle
To Faith their speculative profits tell,
And dividends propose of twelve per cent.,
From new theology's repos't'ry sent.
Meek saints! the gall of bitterness not past,
In teeth of reprobate, damnation cast,
Save those by evangelical controul,
Tho' fleshly lusts still war against the soul.
All strong in faith, give drubbing to the devil,

Arch-demon him, the origin of evil.'

The ensuing line is as accurate in grammar, as the whole of the above passage is elegant in design and execution :

• And must our youth with faculties be froze?

It would be endless to enumerate such offences. Non stăbit illa domus,' &c. 87., and 'argumentem,' &c., 93., are misprints.-The only interesting parts of the pamphlet are the mottoes to the several letters, which are extracted at some length from Thomson, Cowper, &c. &c. Among the numerous grammatical deficiencies to which we have alluded, the

article

article is omitted throughout; a wondering age' is called wond'ring age, and an attentive boy, attentive boy, &c. without mercy. Walter Scott may be so permitted to trespass occasionally: but is it tolerable Tanto dissimilem, &c. ?

Art. 15.
Cantos.

Fitz-Gwarine; a Ballad of the Welsh Border. In Three With other Rhymes, legendary, incidental, and humourous. By John F. M. Dovaston, A. M. 12mo. 75. Boards. Longman and Co. 1812.

PP. 286. The ballad of Fitz-Gwarine is by far the best in this collection, and contains some pleasing imagery and poetical touches, although they are disfigured by a want of polish and correctness in the verse.. The humorous poems, however, are far from commendable; and the author's talents must be aided by time and study, if he aspires to the title of a poet: though we question whether, in any case, his compositions would rise above mediocrity, or repay him for neglecting the more solid pursuits to which he seems to be professionally devoted.

Art. 16. The Noble Foundling; or, the Hermit of the Tweed, a Tragedy, in Five Acts. By Thomas Trotter, M.D. 8vo. 45 Longman and Co. 1812.

6

The Noble Foundling contains many poetical passages, and some entire scenes which are sufficiently dramatic. On revisiting Tweedside,' says Dr. Trotter, after many years of absence in the service of my country, early feelings naturally recurred to my remembrance, and gave birth to the following drama.' It is partly founded on a border-tale relating to Habbie Ker of Cessford, and comprizes the old story of an usurper, and of a rightful heir who is at last restored to his property. Some of the characters, especially those of the hero and the heroine, are well conceived and supported: but little that is new occurs in any part of the tragedy. We are continually reminded of Douglas, and generally to the disadvantage of the present performance, though sometimes we think that it will bear the comparison. We omit the speeches of Albert and of Orlando in the second act, as both inferior to their original:

'Albert. My name is Albert; and unknown to fame On Yarrow's banks my clod-built cottage stands, &c. • Orlando. A small estate, enough for frugal times, 'On Leeder's banks was my paternal seat,' &c.

but, in point of flowing and unlaboured versification, we do not conceive that the subjoined passage would have done any discredit to the tragic poet of Scotland. Matilda and Oswald, the heroine and hero, are conversing previously to Oswald's departure for the wars. The speech of the Lady is certainly too long, and too artificial: but, waiving these objections, we must commend the passage.

• Matilda. Can heaven approve this murd'rous waste of being?. Above all creatures man is most a savage.

*Tis man, inhuman man, whose trade is war:

That gives creation's face the gloom of mourning;

H 2

And

And clothes his mother earth in robes of sable
Guilty pre-eminence ! —

Oswald. Pity, the dear prerogative of woman;
The gift that made her beauties more divine,
Wakes in thy breast an excess of compassion

Mat. Oh! how I pray that heaven would yet depute,
Some meek forgiving spirit to be umpire-
I plead not to offend the soldier's ears—
Oswald is all absorb'd in camps and arms:
And the first trumpet that shall sound the charge,
Shall stifle all Matilda's cries and fears-

• Osw. Not absence, nor the thousand toils of war, Shall ever raze thy image from my breast —

While camps contain me, thou shalt charm my thoughts:
Thy smiles shall shield me from each hostile arm
When vict'ry opens, thou shalt be the prize;
And all my life be sweeten'd with thy love.

Mat. But should the fate of battle e'er hang doubtful:
Ah! think while pent in some sequester'd turret,

I, with my female friends must feed on tears:

And sadly ask each passenger the news

O! say how shall I bear the dire suspense?

Osw. Let but Matilda's bosom cease to fear;

Fortune will yet be faithful to our wishes.

• Mat. And in some hour more luckless than the rest;
And anxious as we trim the midnight lamp,
Or pensive wait the slow approach of morn;
The fearful message stuns our trembling ears,
That all is lost!-how shall we hear the tidings? —
Or where for succour will the helpless run?
And, as the Trojan dames, their town on fire,
Made every fane to echo with their shrieks:
Shall we, on lovers, husbands, brothers, call-
Then frantic hasten to the field of battle,
Where not yet cold the bleeding soldier lies-
How shall we stoop to view each mangl'd warrior:
Wash from their pallid cheeks the crimson stains,
To learn the features of the form we lov'd-
Amidst this dread and agonizing scene:

When boist'rous grief has reach'd supreme distraction;
Thy more than wretched, lost, forlorn Matilda;
Shall raving seek thy pale and bloated corse
With Oswald's name drown every dying groan :
And to thy dear remains convulsive cling-

Till this frail heart shall burst those pulses stop -
And woe itself forget to utter more —
Oh!-

(Swoons into Oswald's arms.)
Osw. Help bring help, Matilda sinks away-
We must notice, as we pass, the faulty line-

Wakes in thy breast an excess of compassion;'

and