from the public in consequence of the expected appearance of the Poet-Laureat's Carmen Triumphale. Both professedly adverting to the wonderful events which must for ever signalize the opening of the present year, Mr. Southey and Mr. Gwilliam travel over the same ground, and are both animated on the occasion with a patriotic fervour which may now pass for poetic inspiration.

Praise to the God of empires and of men!

Hope shews her blooming countenance again,
Again the days of happiness return,

The shouts of war subside,

And every eye with rapture seems to turn
To France's humbled pride!

What are her conquests now?

her works of fame

Are lost in her discomfiture and shame,—
And he her savage and unhallow'd chief,
The cause of her disastrous fate,

Shrinks from her sight like a convicted thief,
And curses his ambition all too late.'

The ode thus concludes:

But hark! the great - the glorious cry
Already shakes the central sky!
Through all her realms reviving nature glows,
The night of slavery is past;

The tyrant's star is set at last,

And France is rescued from her foes!

Thy bonds are broken, Gaul! thy days of peace
Shall smile again, and with thy strength increase,
Four mighty nations o'er thy sufferings bend-
Four mighty monarchs all thy wrongs befriend,
O'er thy bright hills, and down thy silver streams,
The glorious lily beautifully gleams,

All nations leap with joy to hear thy fate-
And rush to succour thy dismantled state,
Aiming the restoration of thy throne,

And not the pomp and splendour of their own,
Proud to assert thy exil'd Bourbon's claim,
And drive th' usurper to his haunt of shame!'

Mr. Gwilliam is not always sufficiently attentive to his rhymes. Art. 15. The Regent and the King; or a Trip from Hartwell to Dover. A Poen. By Peter Pindar, Esq. 8vo. 28. Johnston. Saucy as ever, and coarser still, Peter continues to run his rigs on royalty, and seems to be quite on the qui vive on having a brace of sovereigns to turn out before his satiric muse, for the amusement of "the swinish multitude." The poor, unwieldy, gouty Louis XVIII. is indeed very ludicrously and unfeelingly exhibited. Before he is brought forth in the pomp and circumstance of recovered dignity and power, we view him as a pensioner on our bounty at Hartwell: Years twenty-three this king had found

And munch'd his meals on English ground,
Content with safety and with peace,
Tho' dieted on bread and cheese.

H 2

· And

And oft, with pious rage, no doubt,
He dd Napoleon and the gout;
Forc'd by the first the world to roam,
And by the last laid up at home.'

Next he is assaulted by flatterers on his recall: but, between congratulations and the twinges of the gout, the monarch has a bad time of it : "Dear Monsieur Comte, I am so glad

Oh! dn dis gout, it drive me mad!
Sweet Monsieur Perigord, I beg,-
D―n me, take care, you hurt my leg!-
"A crown! mon Dieu, who could believe it,
God give me manners to receive it!

A crown!-oh! curse you! mind my

I'll have you guillotin'd, you brute."">

foot;

Hartwell, which, while Louis was an exile, is said never to have seen the emblems or appendages of royalty *, is now visited by dragoons and state-coaches, and

" His Christian Majesty's backside
On crimson now was rais'd to ride;
Tho' yesterday, that sacred part
Had scarce done honour to a cart.'

A greater honour still awaits the restored King of France:

At Stanmore, Britain's golden c
Too kind, too affable by half,
Waited with pious condescension,
To pay the monarch due attention.

• Well might the giddy thoughtless throngs,
That flock'd around, God bless their tongues! /
Break forth in undistinguish'd shout,

Stunning the welkin with wild rout.

• The shoutings ran to Hyde Park gate,
Where double crowds, impatient, wait,
Anxious enough, no doubt, to see
The impulse of their extacy.

• Gig, coach, landau, mule, donkey, filly,
Block'd all the road thro' Piccadilly;
Blest, but to gain a transient stare,
At France's hope, and Britain's heir.
And France's hope, and Britain's heir,
Were, truth, a most congenial pair;
Two round, tunbellied, thriving rakes,
Like oxen fed on linseed cakes.'

*P. P., however, is too much at variance with facts, when he speaks of the exiled king as being left in a state of poverty. His Majesty himself, we are persuaded, would describe his treatment very differently. Peter is equally incorrect in representing that statecoaches and troops finally attended at Hartwell.

14

Thus

Thus impudently does Peter introduce our Regent on the scene; and, without forgetting the Admiral of the Fleet, he is very liberal of his satire. He ludicrously describes the journey of the King and of the Regent to Dover; and, in order to put his Royal Highness in good humour, the wily poet hits on a lively incident to amuse the Regent in his return, when his friend Mac is sent to ride on the box to make room in the royal carriage for a Kentish buxom dame, “fat, fair, and fifty." A stanza of stars makes it as clear as the moon in what the Regent's felicity was centered; and perhaps the Prince, on being invested with all the honours of gallantry, will pass over those rough and uncourtly epithets in which Peter, as a wicked satirist, profanely indulges himself.

Art. 16. A Song of Triumph. By William Sotheby, Esq. 4to. 2s. 6d. Murray. 1814.

In this period of universal exultation, poets have but one subject; Mr. Southey has his Carmen Triumphale, and Mr. Sotheby has his Song of Triumph; and our business, as reviewers, obliges us again and again to move round in the same track, like a mill-horse, and to kick up the same dust. One consolation is, that in this task we collect something more honourable to our country than Olympic dust; and that, if the song be repeated, it is still a Song of Triumph. Mr. Sotheby does not forget to record the well-fought fields which rescued Spain; and he thus notices the great events in the North, which gave a decisive turn to affairs :

'Twas Freedom stood, at Gallia's fated hour,
On the red crest of Kremlin's burning tower,
And lanc'd with vengeful hand the flames on high
When Moscow's blaze illum'd the northern sky,
Lit the long tracts of ice, and o'er the flight
Of Gaul's lone despot cast funereal light,
When day was slaughter, night without repose,
Save when bleak winds some famish'd legion froze,
When horse and horseman fell without a blow,

And armies vanish'd, sepulchred in snow.'

Gratulations of our great hero and of his gallant officers make an appropriate portion of this song; and, as the lines are nervous, our readers will thank us for giving them an opportunity of perusing a few more of them :

The Hero comes; the festive pomp prepare
With shout and gratulation rend the air!
Hush the deep plaint of woe; awhile restrain
The sigh that inly mourns the warrior slain;
To Britain's high renown be glory giv'n,
And the mute pray'r in secret breath'd to heaven.

Thou! whose bold step, wherever glory led
From realm to realm Britannia's victories spread,
Whether thou wrap'd'st Barrossa's brow in flame,
Or fir'd'st Sebastian's fort, intrepid Gräme !
Firm Beresford! whose arm had strength to wield
A nation's fate on Lusitania's shield;

Hope! whose brave hand clos'd Moore's fame-fixed eye,
When Conquest's shout had sooth'd his latest sigh,
Then wav'd his banner o'er the Hero dead,
And to fresh fields his conquering legions led;
Cotton! whose squadrons, where thou leds't the way,
Rush'd like a storm, and swept war's firm array;
And Hill! who mid the living and the dead,
When Gaul's fresh ranks the flames of battle fed,
Tow'r'dst, as thy single host their shock withstood,
And purpled Bayonne's border-stream with blood;
Fam'd Chiefs! to grace the Hero's state, advance
Mid cow'ring eagles borne from vanquish'd France,
And blazon'd flags that wide in air display'd,
O'er-canopy his brow in floating shade.
Thus with high harmonies, and solemn song,
Thro' arcs of triumph lead his pomp along;
There Britain's Senate, Britain's Champion greet,
Heap war's rich spoils, and plan his proud retreat;
With the bold compass of imperial Rome

Spread its vast scale, and swell its trophied dome;
There on the breathing stone and pictur❜d wall

Bid British art the Hero's wars recall,

And, on another Blenheim, soaring Fame

With Marlb'rough's spread triumphant Wellesley's name.' Not only this extract but the whole of the poem is creditable to the talents of its author: but wrapd'st, fir'd'st, and tow'r'dst, are abominable elisions. To shew Mr. Sotheby's high opinion of the merit of the Duke of Wellington, he proposes that the shield of Achilles, wrought in massive gold after the design of Mr. Flaxman, should be presented as an appropriate trophy to Britain's unrivalled hero.

Art. 17. Intrigue, a Comic Interlude, in one Act, as now performed at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. By John Poole, Esq. 8vo. Is. 6d. Miller. 1814.

The plot of this drama is acknowleged to be of French origin, but is said to have been greatly varied, and the dialogue to have been entirely re-writtten. We think, however, that it still bears the features of its descent; and though its lively character may have contributed to the indulgent reception of it for which the author is grateful, it does not require much notice from the critic. Art. 18. The Woodman's Hut: a Melo-dramatic Romance in three Acts, as now performed at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. The Music by Mr. Horn. 8vo. Miller. 1814. No avowal is here made, as it is in the instance just mentioned, of this play being derived from a foreign stock: but we rather suspect that something more than its localities and characters has been obtained from the Continent. It is calculated for effect on the stage, and we hear (for we have not seen it) that it succeeds so well in this respect that it may be contented without aspiring to any higher reputation. The conclusion of the last scene leaves an impression en the mind which is too shocking, even for a German drama.

28.

Art.

Art. 19. Debtor and Creditor, a Comedy in five Acts, as performed at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden. By James Kenney, Esq. 8vo. 38. Miller. 1814.

Characters and incidents familiar to the stage compose this comedy, with the exception of an honest and feeling Yorkshire prize-fighter, who is rather new to the theatre, and we fear may be said to be rather new in London, where he probably would not long retain his countrynotions. The whole is not unskilfully woven together, is conveyed in good dialogue, and furnishes a just moral, in exposing fashionable. vices but the, sudden love of Barbara and Rochefort is rather revolting, which is a too common fault in novels and dramas. Barbara is a sort of imitation of the character of the Country-Girl in Love for Love, well adapted for Mrs. Jordan who personates her, or rather for the Mrs. Jordan of twenty years ago; and Sampson and Gosling seem to be created for Emery and Liston.

Art. 20. The Rejected Addresses; or, the Triumph of the Ale-king: a Farce. By William Stanley, Esq. 8vo. 2s. Cawthorn. This Farce borrows its name, and a great part of its substance' also, from the well known poetical work which appeared, two years ago, under the same title. The debt, however, thus contracted will never be repaid; for Mr. Stanley has contrived to make even what he has borrowed his own; we wish that we could say, "pulchriora et sua," but, alas! the first word must be exchanged for any one which the dictionary of dulness will supply. Yet the author could do better, as the following stanzas (which it will be easily seen are in. tended as a parody on the best of modern lyric poets) may testify: I dearly love those gentle souls, Where sense with sweetness joins,

Whose heart's warm motions taste controls,
And love's delight refines.
I dearly love the lovely face,
With eyes of melting blue;
A form possessing every grace.
A perfect maid- like you.
But sense or beauty has no power
To fix my roving heart;
I sip the honey, kiss the flower,
And like the Bee depart.
A fair one, fickle as the wind,

In me can cause no sorrow;
No-be she cruel, be she kind,

Her chains fall off to-morrow.'

At page 37. is another song, the burden of which is The Emeralds set in the Silver Sea,' intended as an imitation of the same writer's style, and which is also not without merit. These instances induce us to say little on the present occasion. If we are now obliged to cry "Off," we shall have more pleasure in meeting the author in some other shape, when we can cry, "On, Stanley, On!" Art. 21. Elements of Music, in Verse, adapted to the Piano Forte, and calculated for Juvenile Study: to which are added, a Series of progressive Lessons, and a favourite Duet. By John Kelly. 4to. 58. Sherwood and Co.