and failed to win the public consent. The Vision opens with the following lines, which any "reader of poetry will find little difficulty in managing the only requisite being breath. "Twas at that sober hour when the light of

day is receding,

And from surrounding things the hue wherewith day has adorn'd them Fade, like the hopes of youth, till the beauty of earth is departed; Pensive, though not in thought, I stood at the window, beholding Mountain and lake and vale; the valley

disrobed of its verdure; Derwent retaining yet from eve a glassy reflection

Where his expanded breast, then still and smooth as a mirror,

Under the woods reposed; the hills that calm and majestic,

Lifted their heads in the silent sky, from far Glaramara,

Bleacrag and Maidenmaur, to Grizedal and westermost Withop. Dark and distinct they rose.

The clouds

had gather'd above them High in the middle air, huge, purple, pillowy masses,

While in the west beyond was the last pale tint of the twilight;

Green as a stream in the glen whose pure

and chrysolite waters

Flow o'er a schistous bed, and serene as the age of the righteous. Earth was hush'd and still: all motion and sound were suspended : Neither man was heard, bird, beast, nor the humming of insect,

Only the voice of the Greta, heard only

when all is in stillness.

Pensive I stood and alone, the hour and

the scene had subdued me, And as I gazed in the west, where infinity seem'd to be open,

Yearn'd to be free from time, and felt that

this life is a thraldom.

Thus as I stood, the bell which awhile

from its warning had rested, Sent forth its note again, toll! toll! through the silence of evening.

'Tis a deep dull sound that is heavy and mournful at all times,

For it tells of mortality always. But heavier

this day

Fell on the conscious ear its deeper and

mournfuller import, Yea in the heart it sunk; for this was the day when the herald Breaking his wand should proclaim, that George our king was departed; Thou art released! I cried: thy soul is de

liver'd from bondage! Thou who hast lain so long in mental and

visual darkness,

Thou art in yonder heaven! thy place is in light and in glory.

Come, and behold!-methought a startling voice from the twilight

Answer'd;

The Trance, the Vault, the Awakening, and the Gate of Heaven, (which are the titles of the first four chapters) are then rapidly presented-at the latter an angel stood

Ho! he exclaim'd, King George of England cometh to judgment!

"The accusers" who come from "the blackness of darkness," are, we suppose, Wilkes and Junius (for Mr. Southey gives the names of "the sovereigns," "the elder worthies," "the worthies of the Georgian age," and "the young spirits" alone, and charitably leaves the bad to conjectural baptism;) the first from (among other marks) "the cast of his eye oblique," and the latter, because

Mask'd had he been in his life, and now a visor of iron

Rivetted round his head had abolish'd his features for ever.

Speechless the slanderer stood, and turn'd

his face from the monarch Iron-bound as it was, so insupportably dreadful

Soon or late to conscious guilt is the eye of

the injur❜d.

After the discomfiture of the accusers, The Absolvers' are summoned in the persons of those who on earth had arraigned him'-these also are nameless, with the exception of Washington, who, though the slowest to absolve, is, however, compelled, somewhat reluctantly to attest, that the king had acted as befitted a sovereign.' • The beatifica tion' follows of course, and the remainder of the poem is consecrated by the calendar of saints, who greeted the monarch and his laureate on their admission, and were thereafter to be associated with the former. Alfred, Charles I, Nassau the Deliverer,' Elizabeth, the Duke of Marlborough, Perceval, Cranmer, Wesley, are among the foremost-and Chaucer, Shakspeare, Milton, and Spenser are likewise presented on this occasion, probably in compliment to the poet-for the King cared, we suspect, very little about them. This conjecture is strengthened by the introduction of Cowper, Kirke White, Bampfylde, and one or two others, who would not be the very first objects of research, in a place so abundant

A volume of essays, under this title, is, we understand, in the press. We quote, from memory, the heads of some of the chapters. The past and the future," Character of Cobbett, People with one idea,' -The Indian Jugglers,' On living to one's self,'- On Country The atres,' On Sir Joshua Reynolds's discourses, and various others.That Mr. Hazlitt is a man of undoubted and original mind, no one who has read any of his books can well refuse to acknowledge. Perhaps there is no living writer who combines so much fancy and occasional pathos with qualities of a more stern and logical cast as he does; and we believe, that no one ever ventured to consult his own nature more closely than himself, or to display with greater truth the treasures derived from such investigation. The vanity of men in general prevents their 'looking at home' for information :

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they would rather consult the structure of their neighbours' minds than their own, and they are consequently content to sit down with but half of the knowledge which they might otherwise acquire. Had Mr. Godwin forborne in this manner, when be wrote St. Leon' and Fleetwood, he would never have developed the strange and fluctuating characters of his heroes with the magnificent effect that we know he has done. A good deal of this fearless and profound self-investigation is, we think, discernible in the writings of Mr. Hazlitt, though it is necessarily less apparent in a book made up of essays on various subjects, than in the biography, or rather in that anatomy of character which Mr. Godwin has exhibited in almost all his works of fiction. We shall take an early opportunity of noticing Mr. Hazlitt's volume.

The gallery which the Professor has now completed, at his residence in Lincoln's Inn Fields, cannot fail to excite great interest among the admirers of architecture; and we doubt not, but that the liberality of Mr. Soane will, under proper limitations, allow professional men and amateurs to have access to the stores

which it contains, and to the valuable studies which it presents. The collection is distributed through four principal rooms; and the effect of the general arrangement, and the ensemble, is very striking, owing to the tasteful decorations of the apartments, and the judicious manner in which the light is introduced. Be

sides the valuable architectural models and fragments, the Vases, Cinerary Urns, and specimens of Etruscan art, the walls of one of the rooms are covered with architectural paintings and drawings, by Canaletti, Clerisseau, and the Professor himself. The library too presents a rich assemblage of every architectural work of importance, several of which are exceedingly rare and costly.

It is gratifying to see an artist thus unequivocally displaying that disinterested enthusiasm for his art, which ought ever to distinguish the professors of a liberal and elegant science. We admire Mr. Soane's zeal, we commend his taste, and we farther hope that the example which he has here given, may incite others to an honourable emulation.

Certain we are, that whatever may have been his occasional errors and delinquencies in matters of taste, no one has displayed greater energy, zeal, and perseverance in the cause of architecture, or has more warmly advocated its interests. His best works present many elegant embellishments, and a delicacy of decoration that deserves to be studied by his successors. His lectures-but we do not intend to write a panegyric-our only object was to point out to the admirers of the Fine Arts, a private museum which reflects honour on the liberality and zeal of its possessor, and which deserves to obtain a place on the list of the objects of attraction in our metropolis.

In addition to the usual exhibitions, forming so prominent a feature among the amusements of the metropolis during spring, and visited from such opposite motives by the indolent and the sedulous, the intelligent and the vacant, the men of taste and the mere men of ton, the bees and the butterflies of societythere is announced an Exhibition of Engravings by living artists, which is intended to be opened about the middle of the present month, at a gallery now fitting up in Soho

square.

For the accomplishment of this desirable project, which would otherwise have been abandoned in an early stage, the public are, we understand, indebted to the exertions of an individual artist, who is willing to incur the whole risk of the undertaking, not, however, with any view to private emolument, but with the hope that it may prove ultimately beneficial to the profession at large. It is somewhat extraordinary that this class of artists should not have before resorted to so obviously beneficial a mode of displaying their works: perhaps they have hitherto deemed it less necessary for them than for their graphic brethren of the

palette, because the shop of the printseller has formed, as it were, a permanent and interesting gallery, presenting a constant succession of novelties, whether to the glance of the profaner passenger at the window, or to the gaze of those initiated into the adytum of the fane. Still the adoption of the present plan appears highly commendable and judicious : it will annually concentrate upon one spot all the finest and most exquisite productions. We hail it too as an indication of zeal and effective energy, for it originates, we are persuaded, in feelings more connected with art than with trade. While upon this subject, we will notice an obvious desideratum that is capable of being easily supplied, viz. a complete and correct list, published periodically (like those of books, in the Magazines) and noticing every new print, of whatever description it may be, together with its size and price. The inconvenience arising from the want of some such intelligence is not strikingly felt by the residents of the metropolis, but it is by the distant amateur and collector, who frequently continue ignorant of the existence of what they would otherwise introduce into their portfolios.