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As yet in Downing Street he sate,
The members of to hear his word
Flocked around the council board;†
Declaiming, hearing, reading, writing,
Far beyond the bard's inditing.

By turns the state's affairs they weighed,
Elected, seated, praised and paid,
Till once, tis said, when all were fired
With patriotism warm'd, inspired,
From the supporting pegs around

Next Ellis rose-profound in mind,
With brevity said all he would ex-
press;

In one short speech, and manner kind,
He seconded the moved address!
With flaming head, next M-lt-n spoke,¶
(Low murm'ring sounds his grief
beguil'd)

A speech part serious, part a joke,
"Twas sad by fits, by starts, 'twas
wild."

But thou, O P-ns-nby,** with brogue to
plead,

Such a strange Hibernian notion

Of replying to a motion

They snatched their hats-or cocked, or To call for papers, (which thou couldst

round;

And as he oft apart would teach

The members what was in the speech,§
Each in the chapel, three the hour,
Would prove his own expressive power.
First Hamilton, his skill to try,

Before the members his opinion laid, And stammered, though he knew not why,

E'en at the speech himself had made.

not read.)

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*Spencer.]-The Right Honourable Spencer Perceval, to whom the ode is addressed, a man not more respected for his public talents, than esteemed for his private virtues.

Flocked around the council board.]-It is here the ministerial dependents take their instructions as regularly as servants receive their master's orders.

Ingentem foribus domus alta superbis,

"Mané salutantum totis vomit ædibus undam."

Virg. Georg. 2. v. 461.

This happened to be the 21st day of January, 1808.

It is extraordinary what vast pains some ministers take with the King's speech; they not only invent it, write it, and rehearse it, but now-a-days forsooth, they speak it. One might enquire why it was called the King's speech at all? But it is as well not.

St. Stephen's]--The only chapel members of parliament frequent.

M-lt-n.]-This crude carroty lord is a sort of Yorkshire Burdett; so he gets noticed, he does not care for what; he has one bit of cunning about him, which is rather to be attributed to the natural sharpness of his country air than any particular favor of Providence towards him. He cannot make a speech in the house, and he knows it; he therefore hides his incapability by whispering. This ruse de guerre, is the only mark of any thing like common sense his lordship has ever betrayed.

"Rarus enim fermè sensus communis in illâ,
"Fortunâ.

Juv. Sat. 8. ver. 73.

** P-ns-by.]—An Irish member who requires three days study to compose an extempore answer to a speech. He has a great talent in speaking, which is worthy of imitation. He has the knack of saying a vast deal about nothing;

"As much on a ribband as a Raphael."

And contrives to serve up the prettiest dishes of trifle to his brother members in the world.

"Parva leves capiunt animos."

He knows his audience, and there's something in that.

The soft responsive voices cried "hear! hear!"

Sweet George delighted smiled, he ne'er

had heard before

Such sounds, and would have said a
great deal more,

But that he nothing had to say.
And M-Ines impatient rose;

So differently do we estimate the virtues and accomplishments of this wedded pair, that we should who presides over the distinies of sincerely invoke the diva triformis, pregnant females. Instead of the indecent lines from Secundus, lord

He threw his hat upon the baize bench Henry Petty will receive the fol

down,

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lowing anonymous stanzas, as no
empty compliment.

Linquite, O Blandæ, superos Olympi
Vertices; lapsæ ac tenues per auras
Inclytæ, lætos properate gressus

Julia ad ædes,

Membra, sive artus teneræ puellæ,
Seu gravent ventrem pueri venusti
Leniter faustum date procreanti

Fundere prolem.

Sit (puer si sit) similis SATORI
Nobili-fortis, generosus, æquus:
Femina at si sit, GENETRICIs esto
Dulcis imago.

By EYLES IRWIN, Esq. 4to. produce. Besides, the picture drawn by the imagination is always more beautiful than the original, and when the mind of the reader is able, as in the present case, to pass from the one to the other, it receives that disagreeable feeling which Horace long ago expressed, incredulus Odi.

This Ode relates to the present contest between France and Spain.

*M-lnes.]-This gentleman flattered himself he hit them hard in this speech of his. One of the Morning Papers asserted it to be Mr. Mills who had spoken on the address; and the next day, lo and behold, the editor of the Morning Post was authorised to state that it was Mr. Milnes, and not Mr. Mills, who had made such an impression on the house.

Dejected Petty.]-The original has it Pity-one letter makes a vast alteration, the insertion of an R would make it Preity, and the mutation of the P might render it Betty.

His girl-subduing voice.]-This little tumbling fellow finding BRITANNIA a coy. wench, and a little beyond his strength or management, tried another fair, who, not so deaf to his prayers, smiled propitious to his wishes. The world approve his choice he has been addicted to Strange ways so long, that his fixing himself in them for life is nothing surprising, but what will the opposition do during the honeymoon?

"

-Tunc ad arma
Et Venus Vocat et Vocat Cupido
Tunc in vulnera grata proruendum
Huc, illuc, agilis eratur Hasta."

"Respondent to the patriot's claim, Which meets his willing ear, The Briton fosters freedom's flame,

Still, like the Vestal's, dear!
And, ardent, quits his peaceful plains,
To burst a kindred people's chains.
Congenial with the impulse proud,
A monarch, pious, just, and wise,
Who views them with paternal eyes,
That impulse has avow'd!"

When we read such lines as these, we recollect that we are at present supporting Spain not so much because she is fighting for

liberty, as because she is fighting against France; and that this" monarch, pious, just, and wise," is probably in too ill a state of health to feel or to avow any impulse of the kind.

We repeat again that present and political events are bad mate. rials for the purposes of poetry, and there is nothing in this Ode which tends in the slightest degree to modify this opinion.

ART. XXXVIII. The Siller Gun; a Poem, in Four Cantos: with Notes, and a Glossary. By JoHN MAYNE, Author of the Poem of "Glasgow," &c. Foolscap 8vo. pp. 153.

THE subject of this poem is a competition or trial of skill in shooting at a mark, which takes place occasionally at the town of Dumfries, in Scotland. The prize, it seems, is a small silver tube, or gun, presented to the corporation, by James the VIth, or James the Ist. of England. The name of the victor, however, is only recorded, and the gun remains among the archives of the corporation, for succeeding competitors.

The occasion of this shooting is a great festival. The people, of all descriptions, assemble from the neighbourhood, and dancing, feast. ing, conversation, wrestling, and other sports, as well as quarrelling, and fighting, go on. The subject is by no means a bad one, for comic description; and a poet of real genius might have presented us a very entertaining poem; but the present writer has not made much

of his materials. The poem, how ever, is not devoid of merit; and some passages may be pointed out which are very good. The feelings, for example, of the elder part of the rustic assembly, are described in a very interesting man

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Wi' cap and stowp, Were e'en as blithe as blithe could beA' fit to lowp!

Pleas'd, they recount, wi' meikle joy,
How aft they've been at sic a ploy ;
Descrive past scenes; re-act the boy,
And a' his wheems:

Sweet days of youth, without alloy,
Like fairy dreams!

And mony a crack, and gallant tale,
'Bout bauld forebears, sae stark and hale,
Inspir'd their breasts with ardent zeal,
While circling round,

The reaming cogs o' nappie ale

Gaed glibber down! Yet, now and then, a silent tear, For friends departed, kindred dear, (Friends, wha were aye the foremost

here!)

Bedew'd ilk cheek,

Mair eloquent, in grief sincere,

Than tongue can speak !"

In describing the musicians, who contributed to the day's entertainment, the following account of one

who excelled in the tender Scotch

airs, is truly poetical:

"But wha's he lilting i' the rear, Sae saft, sae tunefu' and sae clear ? It's Dingwall, to the Muses dear,

Whose modest merit Was sae repress'd for wanto' gear, Care crush'd his spirit! Aft, when the Waits were playing by, I've mark'd his viol with a sigh, Soothing lorn lovers, where they lye,

To visions sweet

Saft as a mither's lullaby,

When babies greet!

"The bonny Buss aboon Traquair,"

And “ Mary Scott of Tarrow, fuir ;"

"Tweedside," and "O! I wish I were Where Helen lies!"

He play'd in tones that suit Despair,
When Beauty dies!"

ART. XXXIX. The Burniad; an Epistle to a Lady, in the Mann er of Burns. With Poetic Miscellanies, Original and Imitative. By JOHN HENRY KENNY. Foolscap 8vo. pp. 143.

THIS author confesses the title of the Burniad to be absurd, without having been moved to substitute a fitter one. It is well that such a disregard of correctness has not rendered his poems themselves absurd; but, in general, they are by no means so. We do not, indeed, approve of any attempts at imitating the worst part of poor Burns, (as a poet) his dialect. If a « Connaught Paddy," as Mr. Keh ny calls himself, will not, or cannot write in English, let him teach his muse

"To take Hibernia! thy still ranker

brogue,"

rather than affect Scotticisms. But waving this objection, the imitation is good, and the poetry of the epistle by no means bad. The English pieces are correct, and rather elegant. There is merit both in the sonnets and the songs; but in tales

and fables this author does not shine, for these kinds of composition require judgment, ingenuity, united with simplicity, and an exquisite tact.

"The voice of love, in tender youth,
(Unskili'd in all things but in truth)
Devoid of guile, devoid of art,
Breathes but the impulse of the heart.
The tear supprest, the smother'd sigh,
The conscious-meeting melting eye,
Shall of a mutual flame disclose,
Ere faultering accents tell its woes.
For yet, when tender passion's young,
Silken-soft silence chains the tongue;
But sure, when two fond hearts unite,
Hope, secretly, must be in sight?
It is not for my Lady Jane;
When Hodge avows his amorous pain,
But when you hear the rustic moan,
Be sure 'tis all for-milkmaid Joan.
When heavenly Hope to smile disdains,
The shepherd wears not Venus' chains ;
A princess may his wonder move,
But never, never waken love!"

ART. XL. The Pastoral Care; a Didactic Poem, in Three Parts. Addressed to the Junior Clergy. Foolscap 8vo. pp. 172.

THIS is the age of experiments: even in the walks of poetry, what is new, rather than what is beautiful, has become the object of search: and as it is much easier to find fresh topics of instruction, than of entertainment, it is to be feared that didactic poetry will become one of the most frequent species. We say it is to be feared, for a witty writer has admirably observed that, "the muse would make a very indifferent schoolmistress," and we have often occasion to remark, that they who attempt to teach, make but very indifferent poets.

This anonymous instructor of the younger clergy divides his subject, very methodically, into three parts I. "Instruction of the poor, and public charities." II. "The minis ter's Sunday duties." III. "Occasional duties." The sentiments of the piece are pious, humane, and well adapted to the ecclesiastical character. The common arguments against the instruction of the poor are refuted; all the parts of clerical duty are enumerated, and their due observance is zealously enforced: bigotry is reproved, orthodoxy recommended Notes

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are added, containing lists of tracts proper for dispersion among the poor, and works, worthy the perusal of ministers. Quotations are given from the charges of bishops, from other writings of sound divines, and from the scriptures. Our author thus speaks of his work, in a postscript.

"If the author's first aim had not been utility, he would have cancelled several passages, the omission of which would probably have made the work less objectionable to general readers. These the eye of taste will be at no loss to discover: he will therefore express a hope, that in estimating his little work, candour will remember the main design of the artificer."

Upon this sentence we must remark, that whoever, writing in verse, makes the smallest sacrifice of poetical merit to the desire of being useful, will certainly miss his aim. The true object of poetry is, to please, and by pleasing to move. To inform and to direct, is not its office. The versification of this piece is harsh and awkward; its style laboured, embarrassed, and often inaccurate; and its imagery sometimes grotesque. By these faults the effect is almost destroyed of passages which ought to appeal strongly to the heart: for instance,

"Of various plants in fabled Flora's bower,

Oft in a season may'st thou cull the flower;

Yearly the rich parterre its pride renews, Whilst one race, once, the flowering aloe views.

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"Unchecked by cold distrust, nor dread-
Thrice happy age of unreflecting peace!
ing ill:"
Play on sweet babes-soon the brief joy

must cease.

And spare her breasts deep wounds
Far otherwise engaged, a widow view,

Nor her and hers, impatient and unkind,
while they are new;
Too soon compel to leave their home be
hind:

Nor grudge her, from each long known
One autumn's orchard-fruits, and stand-
comfort torn,
ing corn.

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Will quit a spot endeared by many a tie:
Here for the sick unrecompensing guest,
Her careful hand the currant vintage
pressed:

Dealt the warm mess to throngs of well-
known poor,

Whose winter miseries brought them to her door;

The child-bed garment shaped, and coat of wool,

And reared to knit and sow-her peasant school.

Here had she taught her own seraphic

choir,

To lisp the grandeur of their better sire;
And led them forth each sabbath to Hea

ven's gate,

To God's high edifice, in patriarch state;

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