in the art which formerly was little practised. Pope, for instance, and Thomson, and Goldsmith, are so invariably melodious, that the ear of a true critic is soon cloyed with the luscious richness of the stream of sound which they pour fourth. Even Dryden was never rough, but when he had no leisure to be smooth. It was reserved for a later age to discover, that harshness is a necessary ingredient in poetical harmony; in obedience to which maxim, Messrs. Whistlecraft, after sliding softly through the first stanza, push through the second with much less regularity of movement; until their progress becomes exquisitely jolting, and jerking. The first two lines contain an amiable proof of modesty, which ought not to be robbed of its meed of praise:

"I've often wished that I could write a book,

Such as all English people might peruse."

Most men would have wished to write a book, which all their countrymen would like to read: but our brothers, with the proud humility of conscious genius, confine their desires, or at least their language, to the production of a work which it shall be possible for all Englishmen to peruse. It is likewise worthy of remark, that it is not a distant, casual, and ceremonious acquaintance with the goddesses of verse, which our two brothers have to boast of: they are in possesssion of all the privileges of long intimacy: instead of appearing before the Muses as humble votaries, preparing offerings for their acceptance, or decking bowers for their abode, they treat them without reserve, and talk of packing them off as plain men do their wives, to sell their small wares wherever they can find customers. At first this appeared to us to savour not a little of an unpoetical concern for the means of subsistence: but, on second thoughts, we are inclined to ascribe the uncourteous mode of procedure, which they speak of adopting, to the more dignified motive of solicitude for their poetical fame; since the muse would naturally be the most zealous propagator of the fame, which had been the fruit of her own inspiration. The second line of the enumeration of the merits of poets,

"They raise the nation's spirit when victorious,"

contains one of those happy peculiarities of conception, which genius alone can reach, though even genius cannot always command them. An ordinary mind, especially if it happened to have any recollection of Tyrtæus and the Spartans in the Messenian war, might have struck out the idea, that poets are of use to raise the spirits of the vanquished: but is there any thing wonderful in raising what is low? to lift what is already high to a still greater height is surely a much more uncommon and stupendous effect: and accordingly, our Suffolk bards, with great

originality and felicity of thought, eulogize their art, not because it alleviates the dejection of defeat, but because it adds even fresh extravagance to the intoxication of victory.

The preceding line,

"Poets consume exciseable commodities,"

though it has no pretensions to that brilliance of conception which we have just been admiring, is yet remarkable for the skill with which it takes advantage of the present predilection for every thing that smells of political economy. This ground of praise will appear to be very aptly chosen, when we consider that the excise is that branch of the revenue in which till very lately the greatest deficiency has taken place, and that it is to the government that the cause of the poetical fraternity is here recommended. We are surprised that Messrs. Whistlecraft did not carry their eulogy further: they might have asserted, that poets produce, as well as consume exciseable commodities; for poetry was long ago defined by the primitive fathers to be vinum demonum-the devil's wine. They probably rejected this notion, because, if adopted, it would bring poetry under the cognizance of the Commissioners, which would be inconsistent with their plan for establishing two boards, one for verse, and one for prose. The idea of the two Boards exhibits the strength and copiousness of the Whistlecraft imagination, more conspicuously than any other part of the poem. We have only to regret, that they have not entered at more length into the details of an establishment of so great consequence to the public prosperity. Some, to take away from the merits of the proposal, may perhaps hint a suspicion, that the authors, far from being altogether disinterested, entertain an expectation of receiving the recompense of their ingenuity, by being themselves nominated to two seats. For our parts we acquit them of these grovelling views; for they cannot but be aware that such a nomination would be the extreme of impropriety. The Board of Excise might as well be filled with soap-boilers and distillers. Unless all dealers in verse and prose be excluded from the tribunals which are to have the superintendence of these commodities, the members will never be able to exert their authority with effect: for though their virtue might resist the temptations to abuse, they would never escape suspicion. Some may allege, that the gentlemen of the two boards should be skilled in verse and prose, which they cannot be without practice in these arts. But what do the members of the Board of Trade know about commerce and manufactures? and yet, is not the Board of Trade universally allowed to be one of the most harmless boards in the kingdom? The whole objection proceeds upon the very false notion, that the members of a public establishment

ought to understand the affairs of which they have the management. Such an idea can be entertained by those only, who hastily apply to public concerns the maxims of their domestic economy, without a due consideration of the principles of constitutional law.

Our bards, having thus suggested a hint for the encouragement of learning by the state, proceed to lament the loss of the twenty guineas which authors, in former times, were wont to receive from the patrons to whom they dedicated their works.

"Then twenty guineas was a little fortune;

Now we must starve unless the times should mend:
Our poets now-a-days are deem'd importune
If their addresses are diffusely penn'd:

Most fashionable authors make a short one
To their own wife, or child, or private friend,
To show their independence, I suppose;

And that may do for gentlemen like those."

We agree with Messrs. Whistlecraft in deprecating the practice of gratuitous dedication. But, instead of bringing back the old fashion, we are inclined to think that it would be more profitable for the literary part of the community to adopt, as the general practice, what was attempted (we know not whether with success) in the case of Tristram Shandy; where the dedication, printed at full length, is followed by an advertisement that it shall belong to whatever nobleman or gentleman shall offer the highest price. The sale of dedications by auction would, we have no doubt, extend the market for them very considerably. The fashion of family dedication is supported by such eminent examples-by that of Sir Humphry Davy, for instance, who inscribes his Elements of Chemistry to Lady Davy-and of Sir John Sinclair, who dedicates his History of the British Revenue to his son that it threatens to become very prevalent, unless it is checked in its growth by being subjected to penalties. We wish that our limits allowed us to point out all the unassuming beauties of language, which lurk in the stanza which we have just quoted. We can do no more than direct the attention of our readers to the simple energy of the last line, and to the striking antithesis between that and those. "And that may do for gentlemen like those." We are not sure, however, that this flower of Parnassus is the genuine growth of Messrs. Whistlecraft's garden.

The conclusion of the proem is very properly occupied with announcing the theme of the intended national work, and the reasons which have determined the authors in the choice of their subject.

"King Arthur, and the knights of his round table,
Were reckon'd the best king and bravest lords,
Of all that flourish'd since the tower of Babel;
At least of all that history records;
Therefore I shall endeavour, if I'm able,
To paint their famous actions by my words:
Heroes exert themselves in hopes of fame,
And having such a strong decisive claim,
"It grieves me much, that names that were respected
In former ages, persons of such mark,
And countrymen of ours, should lie neglected,
Just like old portraits lumbering in the dark:
An error such as this should be corrected,
And if my muse can strike a single spark,
Why then (as poets say) I'll string my lyre,
And then I'll light a great poetic fire;

"I'll air them all, and rub down the round table,

And wash the canvass clean, and scour the frames,
And put a coat of varnish on the fable,

And try to puzzle out the dates and names;
Then, as I said before, I'll heave my cable,

And take a pilot, and drop down the Thames."

We have already admired the plain unadorned style with which the proem began; the profusion of figures and richness of imagery with which it concludes is no less worthy of applause. A careless reader might suppose that, after the spark has been struck, and the poetic fire lighted, and the portraits aired, and the round table rubbed down, and the canvass washed, the frames scoured, and the fable varnished, there is an incongruity of metaphor in heaving the cable, taking a pilot, and dropping down the Thames. The fact however is, that the last two lines, instead of being metaphorical, contain a literal statement of a plain matter of fact. They have nothing to do, like scouring the canvass or varnishing the fable, with the composition of the poem, but allude to the purpose of the writers, when the task of versification is finished, to set out on a voyage, with a view to retail their work in New South Wales.

The proem being finished, the national poem itself commences. After a description of the feasts and revels, the knights and ladies of King Arthur's court, we are presented with the characters of Sir Launcelot, Sir Tristram, and Sir Gawain, drawn very elaborately, and kept as distinct as heroes of an epic poem ought ever to be. Into the composition of each, a few grains of mystery are thrown; which, according to the rules of modern poetical pharmacy, is essential to the composition of an interesting personage. In the second canto intelligence arrives, that a company of ladies had been carried off by a band of giants. The knights. pursue,

discover the castle of the giants, and attack it without success. Sir Gawain then conducts his operations against it in regular form; and after much labour perceives that he is not likely to effect his purpose in this way; or, as our bards beautifully

express

it:

"In fact his confidence had much diminished,

Since all his preparations had been finished."

Lastly, Sir Tristram attempts to gain the fortress, by a coup de main; and after much difficult climbing, hard fighting, and abusive railing, finds himself in possession of it; delivers all the ladies, with the exception of two fat duennas, who had been devoured; and forms a sentimental friendship with a sick giant, who had been saved from the general carnage. The canto concludes with announcing, that the ensuing part of the poem will contain an account of a giant's travels and education.

The merits of the construction of this plot are very conspicuous. It has always been deemed of poetical importance that the scenes which the poet paints to our imagination should follow one another in such an order, that the impression of each may be increased by the contrast subsisting between its general character and the general character of the scene immediately preceding; and that the fancy, instead of being tired with the sameness, may be refreshed by the variety of the pictures which are set before it. To try Messrs. Whistlecrafts' work by this criterion, we have merely to throw a cursory glance over the assemblages of ideas, by which it successively arrests our attention. First, we have the dishes on which King Arthur's court feasted, twenty-one in number, according to our reckoning; then the rude jollity of the menials is described; the courteous knights enter next; after whom the ladies make their appearance; three highly finished portraits of the three principal knights fill the following eight pages; then comes the consternation produced by the intelligence of the ladies' misfortune; the journey of the knights, their arrival at the place where the giants had supped, the description of the castle, the assault, the regular progress of the siege, Sir Tristram's coup de main, with its attendant horrors and bloodshed ;and that the reader may not be dismissed with a painful impression, the whole terminates with the pleasing sympathy which attaches Sir Tristram to the sick giant. They who cannot trace the most consummate art in this developement of the action of the work, must be pronounced insensible to poetical beauty.

The colouring of the piece is not inferior to the general disposition of its parts. The beauties of language and versification, which we pointed out at considerable length in the proem, appear in every part of the work. It is only a few of the more brilliant