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liberty, and flourishing each with unabated vigour, they refuse to
twine around the same stock. The genius of our best poets,
when passing events demand their strains, appears paralysed and
unstrung, Were we to account for this phenomenon, we should
refer it to that spirit of generous reserve, which forms so distin-
guishing a feature in our national character. To do great deeds
is the privilege of a British Hero; to hear that they are done is
the glory of the British nation. The more simple and unvar-
nished the tale of their achievements, the more perfect is the sense
of triumph which it imparts. The feelings of the heart which
rise out of present events are of a nature too vivid and penetrat-
ing to be embodied in words; and the greater the magnitude of
the event, the less are the powers of language adequate to its ex-
pression. Upon a feeling so native and so true, all the meretri-
cious ornaments of poetry are lost either in apathy or disgust.
The simple names of Talavera, of Vittoria, of Waterloo, raise in
the hearts of the British nation a spirit and a warmth, to which
the Epinicia of Pindar or Milton would appear flat and insipid.
The natural consequence of this sensation appears to be, a ge-
neral distate of all panegyric upon actious so noble, and a deter-
mined neglect of every attempt to clothe them in appropriate
song. The task therefore of celebrating these great events has
generally fallen to men of inferior talents, or if one of a higher
order shall step forward to celebrate the glories of his country,
his efforts appear nerveless and constrained, from the anticipation
probably of the cold reception which awaits his too patriotic
Inu Se.. " " ' - - -
We cannot say that the Poem before us is an exception to
these conclusions. But if W. Scott has, in the facetious lan-
guage of the Newspapers, fallen in the field of Waterloo, it is to
be ascribed not so much to the unsuccessful display of his usual
powers, as to the insuperable difficulties of his subject. What-
ever poetry shall attempt even to pourtray, much more to adorn
the actions performed in that day of glory, will be rewarded with
a chaplet, not of the bay of victory, but of that weed which rots
itself on Lethe's wharf. Mr. Scott has visited the very field of
slaughter; he has presented us with a graphic o of the
country, and with a gazetted detail of the events of the day; but
still his poetical fidelity stands him in no stead. The picture in-
deed is animated, and the language full of spirit; but we read it
with the same sort of sensation which an officer, who had been
Fo at the battle, would feel in seeing a panorama of the
fight. - - -
*he allusion to the state of the fields at the time of the battle,
and the expectation of harvest, is well described, especially in
the latter and the more difficult part of the simile. . . .
- M m - “ But
vol. IV. No WEMBER, 1815. -

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The hovering of death over the fatal plain is finely conceived, although we do not quite admire his summons to the bloody banquet: as his guests were not to devour but to be devoured.

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The address to Buonaparte is rather too long, and in parts

devoid of spirit. The poet, however, has drawn an admirable simile from his Scotch mountains, which is applied with peculiar happiness to his subject.

The idea, that upon this single contest the name, the

“Or is thy soul like mountain-tide,
That, swell’d by winter storm and shower,
Rolls down in turbulence of power

A torrent fierce and wide;
*Reft of these aids, a rill obscure,
Shrinking unnoticed, mean, and poor,

Whose channel shows display’d
The wrecks of its impetuous course,
But not one symptom of the force -

. By which these wrecks were made!” P. 28.

empire, perhaps,

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perhaps, even the existence of Buonaparte depended, is admirably expressed.

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As the panegyric upon the Duke of Wellington has appeared in most of the public papers, we shall not extract it; the stanza is sufficiently stately, but somewhat stiff.

We now come to a part of the poem which will command much more general attention and admiration. An epicedium upon those who fall in their country's cause, will always find a passage to the heart of an Englishman, when panegyric fails in its purpose. ... Mr. Scott has succeeded admirably in this part of his poem. The following thoughts are not indeed new, but selected with judgment, and expressed with a delicate and disciplined feeling.

“. Here piled in common slaughter sleep
Those whom affection long shall weep ;
Here rests the sire, that ne'er shall strain
His orphans to his heart again;
The son, whom, on his native shore,
The parent's voice shall bless no more;
The bridegroom, who has hardly press'd
His blushing consort to his breast; .
The husband, whom through many a year
Long love and mutual faith endear.
Thou can'st not name one tender tie
But here dissolved its reliques lie
O when thou see'st some mourner's veil,
Shroud her thin form and visage pale,
Or mark'st the Matron's bursting tears
Stream when the stricken drum she hears;

Or see'st how manlier grief, suppress'd,
Is labouring in a father’s breast,-

With no enquiry vain pursue -
The cause, but think on Waterloo.” P. 36.

When our poet proceeds to name the departed heroes of the day, his selection is not less happy; the following Mines are more truly classical, than any which we have yet seen of the same author.

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“Thou saw'st in seas of gore expire
Redoubted PICTon’s soul of fire— o,
Saw'st in the mingled carnage lie
All that of Ponson By could die—
DE LANcy change Love's bridal-wreath,
For laurels from the hand of Death-
Saw'st gallant MILLER’s failing eye
Still bent where Albion's banners fly,
And CAMERON, in the shock of steel,
Die like the offspring of Lochiel;
And generous GoRDoN, 'mid the strife,
Fall while he watch'd his leader's life—” P. 38.

Our extracts will conclude with the following passage, which we consider as unrivalled in beauty and pathos. “The poor soldier's lowlier name,” is a new and most classical idea. Though the lines come home to the heart of the reader, yet he will find no general nor common place application. The peculiar circumstances of situation are so artfully interwoven as exclusively to point out the field of Waterloo.

“Forgive, brave Dead, the imperfect lay!
Who may your names, your numbers, say?
What high-strung harp, what lofty line,
To each the dear-earn'd praise assign,
From high-born chiefs of martial fame
To the poor soldier's lowlier name 2
Lightly ye rose that dawning day,
From your cold couch of swamp and clay,
To fill, before the sun was low,
The bed that morning cannot know.—
Oft may the tear the green sod steep,
And sacred be the heroes' sleep,
Till Time shall cease to run;
And ne'er beside their noble grave,
May Briton pass and fail to crave
A blessing on the fallen brave
Who fought with Wellington!” P. 39.

We have selected for our readers the most brilliant parts of the poem before us; should they be discouraged however from purchasing the remainder by this declaration, we would protest against their resolutions by informing them that the profits aris. ing from its sale are dedicated by its patriotic author, to the national fund for the sufferers of Waterloo. The dedication of his talents and of their produce upon this altar, is no mean offering from such a man as Walter Scott, and we trust that it

will be accepted with the gratitude which it deserves. -- * ART.

3

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ART, VIII. A Serious. Address to the Clergy of the United

Kingdom, on the Duties of the Pastoral Office, in a Visitation Sermon, preached at the Parish Church of St. Paul's, Covent-Garden, on the 19th of May, 1815, before the Archdeacon of Middlesex and his Clergy. By the Rev. W. Gurney, A.M. Rector of St. Clement Danes, &c. 8vo. pp. 25. Walker. 1815.

WHEN a Visitation Sermon is published without the request either of the clergy or their visitor, we take it for granted, either that it contains matter which appeared to them objectionable, or at least, that it is more highly esteemed as a composition by the preacher, than by his audience. This Visitation Sermon was hot published at the request of the archdeacon and clergy present, nor will any reader be surprised that it was not. It is bla

zoned forth, indeed, at the head of the title-page, as A Serious

Address to the Clergy of the United Kingdom, on the Duties of the Pastoral Office. Mr. Gurney, or any other clergyman, is indeed at liberty to address his brethren seriously, but after this labour of the mountain, what is the production ? In good truth, there has seldom appeared a sermon from a Minister of the Established Church, so vague, so unsatisfactory, and so ill ex

pressed. The particular points of practice recommended, have

indeed little objectionable in them, but they are inculcated in so bad a style, that they appear forced and unimpressive. Yet is it curious to observe with what solemn preparation our preacher sets out, first assuring us of the diffidence he felt before such an audience, an assurance, by the way, which the remainder 9f the Sermon shews not to have been unnecessary. However,

he soon rallies, and then bespeaking a candid and attentive audience, he trusts,

“That, upon serious and calm reflection, my language, though simple will not disgust; my arguments, though plain, will not be weak; my application, though close, will not be offensively personal: and, upon the whole, I sincerely hope I shall be enabled to hold fast the form of sound words.” P. 5.

Now we must confess, from this beginning, we did expect a philippic personal enough, and that the form of sound words would hardly have been retained to the end. Yet excepting certain Calvinistic inuendoes respecting erperimental feeling, &c. there is little doctrine, and less personality; all is sufficiently tame and spiritless. To be perfectly intelligible, as he states it, he divides his subject into three parts.-list. The object of the shepherd's care, the flock of God. , 2dly. The duty enjoined, feed the flock. 3dly. The frame and temper of the shepherds - z 11

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