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We resume our observations on Mr. Southey's style. A warning is given by a black letter title-page (HISTORY OF BRAZIL) that this book is not composed in the fashionable manner of the present day; and truly in diction, as well as in method, Mr. Southey discovers no small predilection for the chronicles of other times. His readers will frequently meet with such words as spake for spoke; bare for bore; lack for want; alway; pavais; religioner;-to win a town, or to win stores, &c. &c. Foreign names, likewise, are spelt agreeably to the language of the particular country; as Felipe II. of Spain; Joam IV. of Portugal; and Prince Mauritz of Holland. Without discussing the propriety or the prudence of these deviations from common usage, we proceed to a remark which is apparently of little consequence; we mean, the position of the notes. Aware that it is painful for the reader to interrupt his attention during the thread of a narrative, we are desirous of seeing subordinate illustrations either incorporated in the text, or referred, if more remotely connected with the subject, to the end of the volume. The latter mode we have, on several occasions, wished to have seen adopted in the present book; in which, in fact, the great body of the notes is so placed-and we are mistaken if the first page does not supply an example in point. We must next advert to the want of a map, which is an almost indispensable requisite to the interest of such long and varied details. It is delayed, says Mr. Southey, for the purpose of rendering it "as full and as little incorrect as possible:" but, on considering the length of time which has already elapsed before the publication of the second part, and the miserable maps of South America which we as yet possess, it is to be regretted that a sketch or outline was not made to accompany the present volume.

To conclude, imperfect though this publication may be, we regard it as a highly valuable record, and shall gladly bestow attention on the promised additional portion of it: which, as it will relate to a period nearer our own time, will probably be put together with more attention to the prevailing taste;-an advantage perfectly attainable without any sacrifice of the sterling merits of its precursor.

Hermilda in Palestine: the first Canto, and part of the second: with other Poems.

[From the British Critic, for December, 1812.]

We are happy in being the first of our cotemporaries to add another name to the illustrious catalogue of Noble Authors; and more particularly as we feel ourselves justified in saying that the taste, elegance, and genuine poetical spirit of the specimens we shall adduce have not often, at least in modern times, been exceeded.

These poems are the production of Edward Lord Thurlow, who prefers the cultivation of the Muses in elegant retirement to the agitation and tumult of a public life, and who, we hope, will proceed either to a perfect conclusion of the poem, of which a portion only is here exhibited, or to other undertakings commensurate with his talents and worthy of his ambition.

The model which the noble writer has placed before him is that of Spenser, and we do not say too much when we assert, that the spirit and manner of our early national poet has never been more faithfully represented. We appeal to the following specimens for the accuracy of our judgment.

"To the right honourable the Earl Spencer, knight of the most noble order of the garter.

"Not all, that sit beneath the golden roof,
In rooms of cedar, O renowned Lord,
Wise though they be, and put to highest proof,
To the sweet Muses do their grace afford;
Which if they did, the like would them accord
The mighty poets to eternity,

And their wise acts in living verse record,
And build them up, great heirs of memory,

Which else shall in oblivion fall and die;

But Thou, that like the sun, with heavenly beams,
Shining on all, dost cheer abundantly

The learned heads, that drink Castalian streams;
Transcendent Lord, accept this verse from me,
Made for all time, but yet unfit for thee." P. 3..

After other sonnets in a similar style and spirit, addressed to the Memory of Sir Philip Sidney, to Lord Moira, a Beloved Friend, Lord Holland, and Lord Granard, we meet with the following fragment to Sir Philip Sidney, which, if we mistake not, will be perused by all true lovers of poetry with no common complacency.

VOL. I. New Series.

3 C

"A SONG

To Sir Philip Sidney.

"Spirit, whose bliss beyond this cloudy sphere Is with the rising and the setting light, Who, far remov❜d from all that grieves us here, For ever happy, and for ever bright,

Yet lookest down with pity from on high,
'Midst airs of immortality:

O, with what pure and never-ending song,
Song, that uplift upon the wings of love,
May gain access to that celestial throng,
Shall I now soar above,

And in the silver flood of morning play,
And view thy face, and brighten into day?

"Forgive me, then, O love-enlarged soul, Or love itself in pure felicity,

If, questioning my nature's fast control,
I slip my bonds, and wander unto thee;
But, ah! too well I know

That this may not be so,

"Till that prefixed doom from heav'n be spent ; Then for a little while,

If measure may beguile,

Let thy sweet deeds become my argument;
That all the wide hereafter may behold
Thy mind, more perfect than refined gold.

"But this is to enlarge the liberal air,
And pour fresh light into the diamond,
To herald that the fragrant rose is fair,
And that the sun in beauty doth abound,
So vain, and so excessful is the thought,
To add to Sidney aught:

Yet cannot I forego the sweet delight,
More sweet to me than music of the spring,
Or than the starry beams of summer's night,
Thy sweetest praise, O Astrophel, to sing,
'Till the wide woods, to which I teach the same,
Shall echo with thy name;

And ev'ry fount, that in the valley flows,

Shall stay its fall, and murmur at the close.

"Nor yet shall time, a thing not understood,

Nor weary space forbid me my desire;

The nimble mind can travel where it would, More swift than winds, or than the greedy fire;

So shall my thoughts aspire

To that eternal seat, where thou art laid

In brightness without shade;

Thy golden locks, that in wide splendour flow,
Crown'd with lilies, and with violets,

And amaranth, which that good angel sets
With joy upon thy radiant head to blow;
(Soft flow'rs unknown to wo,

That in the blissful meals of heav'n are found;)

That whilst full quires around,

With silver hymns, and dulcet harmony,

Make laud unto the glorious throne of grace,

And fill thy ears with true felicity;

Such is the happy place,

Which thou by thy heroic toil hast won,

Such is the place, to which my sacred verses run.

"Then I believe, that at thy birth was set

Some purer planet in the lofty sky,

Which a sweet influence did on earth beget;
That all the shepherds, which on ground did lie,
Beholding there that unexampled light,

That made like day the night,

Were filled with hope, and great expectancy
That Pan himself would on the earth appear,

To bless th' unbounded year." P. 9.

The above verses are followed by the longer poem, which is also a fragment, and denominated Hermilda in Palestine.

Whether by the publication of this specimen the noble author wished to ascertain how far the propensities of the public and taste of the times leaned to this species of composition, or whether, having playfully amused his leisure in these exercitations, he chose to print a small impression for his friends, we have no opportunity of acquiring the knowledge. There can be no doubt of the ability of prosecuting to its termination what is here so happily commenced; and we are induced to express an earnest desire to see a poem continued, of which we are able to produce such stanzas as the following. “V.

"The golden morning now had hardly gone,
My **, from her chamber in the east,
And with an angel's eye scarce look'd upon
The valleys and the hills from night releast ;
When she, for whom a thousand lovers moan,
Yet of all women cares for love the least,
Hermione, along the valley speeds,
Where Nilus flows amid his subject meads.

"VI.

"I well believe Aurora made a stay, To gaze upon the rival of her beams,

So lovely from her helm th' unsullied ray,
And from her shield, and all her armour streams;
But far more fatal, and more bright than they,
Her face in beauty her brave pomp beseems;
Her face, that full of glory and desire,
Mix'd virgin sweetness with heroic fire.
"VII.

"In that unbounded garden of delight
A thousand souls had lost their liberty,
And wander'd in its charms, both day and night,
Delighted with their fond captivity;

O love, when thou art crowned to the height,
What art thou but divine felicity?

Her lovers, though to none she favour gave,
Yet each preferr❜d to serve her as her slave.

"VIII.

"But she, indeed, not like unto her kind,
All thoughts of pity and of love disdain'd;
Which yet a blemish in her soul I find,
Since there the softest passions never reign'd;
To strife, to war, to battle she inclin'd,

And the sharp sword, and weighty spear maintain'd;

To perils, and to camps would turn her feet,

And shrilling clarions made her music sweet." P. 14.

We cannot refuse ourselves the satisfaction of placing one more specimen before our readers.

“CV.

"She heard a damsel singing on the plain,
As joyous as the lark at break of day,

Or that sweet bird, that in the night doth reign,
That all the air was filled with her lay;
A herdsman's daughter, and did there restrain
Her wanton steeds to wander in their play,
And, browzing, o'er the silver hills to roam;
And this her song, the while she drove them home.

"CVI.

"O happy state, the happiest of all!
The blameless herdsman in the flow'ry plain;
He cares not for great kingdoms' rise or fall,
Or battles, that the mighty Consuls gain;
His homely thoughts no foreign guiles can call;
He in his cottage, and his herd doth reign;
If Phoebus through the welkin look but clear,
His peaceful mind is joyous through the year.

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