At peep of morn attun'd my note.
To meet the blackbird's early throat,
And warbled where to evening gray
The redbreast pour'd her plaintive lay.
Sweet, o'er the dew, the stealing breeze,
Amidst my trembling infant trees-
My sycamores that soft display'd
(The first of all the varied shade)
Light-purpling sprays and buds between,
So large a leaf, so bright a green;
That, yet a boy, with wild delight
I rear'd, along their Southern site ;-
As Mira to my labours there
Would lend a sister's fondest care.
Her pretty flowers that learn'd to breathe
Adown the gentle slope beneath,
And open'd to the summer-sun,
A brother's mutual tendance won.
And we had melody at will
For every jasmine and jonquil!
And we had music-such a store-
We sung to every sycamore!
Sweet too was our sequester'd dell:
It had a grotto and a well,
Fair willows, and a waterfall;
An ancient beech that shelter'd all.
We cried, with pensive pleasure, oft:
"Our grotto-light, how shadowy-soft!
"Mild as the summer's evening hour!"
Nor toil could ask a cooler bower.
Clear was our well, and running o'er;
And polish'd was its pebbled floor:
To noon's bright beams that pierc'd the
shade,

Its crisped waters sparkling play'd.
Ah, so doth Innocence impart
Pure radiance to the untroubled heart!
Nor less, as headlong down the rock
On the beech-roots the torrent broke,
To its broad foam to lure the sight,
It wash'd the spreading fibres white.
Yet, tho' it pleas'd, yet all the while
(Such is the world's deceitful smile)
Our aged friend it undermin'd:
Attractive thus is treachery kind!-
Happy, indeed, were childhood's

years,

Ere yet my solitary tears,
Staining the crystal of my well,
Drop after drop in silence fell!
(So falls the sad autumnal leaf)

To speak, dear Shade! a brother's grief!
Then the lone muse would fain inspire,
Alas! my little trembling lyre!
Yet soon to yon responsive stream
My whispers told Eliza's name.
On its green banks the lover stray'd,
And thither woo'd his charming maid,
There, o'er the bloom of young desire
Hath kindled oft my amorous fire,
Whilst to her dear delicious eyes
That heaving bosom blush'd in sighs!
Then every twinkling leaf above
Seem'd conscious to the breath of love.
The winding pathway's easy flow
Wav'd in a gentler curve below;

Each flower assum'd a soften'd hue,
And clos'd its cupin brighter dew.
Then, as I own'd luxurious stings,
I seiz'd, and swept the glowing strings!
Then passion eloquently pour'd
The soul of love thro' every chord!
But, it was mine ere long to roam,
A listless exile, far from home,-
Far from these walls that mark my
birth,

To rear my unambitious hearth,
Where Isca widening seeks the main, 4
Amidst the titled proud and vain.
"Twas there on topographic lore
Some evil genius bade me pore;
By day alert with keen research
Hunt out a ruin, hail a church;
Explore, tho' faint from wan disease,
By the pale lamp long pedigrees;
The look of cold indifference rue,
Yet still the thankless toil pursue,
And brave the insidious Critic's blame,
Unrecompens'd by gold or fame.

"Vain years, avaunt! The favouring

muse

Gilds life's decline with softer hues.
Again that woodland of the child,
Tho' now a thicket dark and wild,
Where spread my statelier sycamores,
Its spirit to my soul restores :

And thro' the ivied shade I break,
And listen to the hawk's shrill shriek,
Flush from her nook the barn-owl gray,
And chase, how pert, the painted jay.
Yet, as I trace these scenes again,
I feel alternate joy and pain;

And e'en tho' years have sped their flight,

I languish for my grotto-light;
I languish for my water-fall,
And my old beech that shadow'd all.

"Ah! well-a-day! alike for me,
Are fled the torrent and the tree!
The rushing flood hath ceas'd to roar;
My old heech-roots are blanch'd no

more;

The green brook on its sedges sleeps;
With fox-gloves shagg'd the grotto weeps;
And one poor willow seems to join
In widow'd grief its sighs with mine!

"And thou, lorn stream! again I stray Along thy wild and devious way. Delightful stream! whose murmurs clear Meet, once again, my pensive ear; That wanderest down thine osier'd vale Where passion breath'd her melting tale; Thy evening-banks to memory sweet I tread, once more, with pilgrim-feet! "Tho' not the same these views ap pear,

As when I rov'd a lover here;
Yet with no languid glance I see
This winding-path, that aspen-tree,
And eager catch, at every pace,
Of former joys some fading trace,

Some

Some features of the past, that seem
The illusion of too fond a dream.

"Such are the dear domestic views That yet attract my simple muse. Nor do I mourn the cold regard Of sordid minds that slight the Bard, As here, tho' care or sorrow lour, 1 steal from gloom a golden hour; As, no mean intermeddler nigh, 'My boyish steps I still descry; Still, midst my budding lilaes pale, The first sweet vernal promise hail; Still, if young May breathe life and bloom,

-Survey some faery power illume
The orient hills with richer light;
Still see, with fluid radiance bright,
Some faery power the pencil hold
To paint the evening cloud with gold;
Still, where amid the horizon dim
The scatter'd elms distinctly gleam,
And fade from darkening crest to crest
The last cool tints that streak the West,
Still heave, tho' others wonder why,
And cherish an enamour'd sigh!
And if, in sooth, one wish aspires
Beyond these satisfied desires,
'Tis that my song, tho' unrefin'd,
May not displease some kindred mind;
That I may boast, tho' distance part
Our cordial looks, one generous heart,
And hold, tho' o'er the grave I bend,
That heart my meed-and SCOTT, my

friend!"

Of the Romance of "Fair Isabel" we shall take a future opportunity of speaking. "It is founded on a family-incident in the reign of Queen Mary; which the existing contest between Protestants and Papists must render peculiarly interesting at the present day. The scene is chiefly laid at Cotehele, the ancient residence of the Edgcumbes, on the West bank of the Tamar: in the Sixth Canto, it shifts to Mount Edgcumbe."

10. Metrical Remarks on Modern Castles and Cottages, and Architecture in General. Nunn.

THE present Poem has been some time before the publick, and now only accidentally fell into our hands. The subject of it, however, makes us regret that we were not earlier favoured with it; and we now hasten to call our Readers' attention to it, particularly as much as relates to the first part, entitled "Remarks on Modern Custles." This pamphlet has satisfied us of what we were before nearly convinced, that it is a mere mockery, a gross and shameless de

lusion, to tell us that the days of the Baronial system passed away centuries ago, that we live in an age of refinement, and that our country is blessed with internal peace. We assert, without fear of contradiction, that the opposite of all this is the case we assert it positively, because we did not take the report of others for evidence, but, in the true spirit of chivalrous inquiry, buckled on our armour, and ventured at once into the bosom of this distracted country. Let no man take our word for it; let him pluck up his spirit, and march from Kew Bridge to Richmond, from Windsor to Maidenhead; and he will find, we repeat again we have seen it, that the quiet, the amiable Citizen, who retired from the bustle of the world to rusticate in peaceful solitude, has been compelled (for what but overwhelming necessity could have been a sufficient inducement?) to castellate his little mansion; to exclude the very light and air of Heaven, by turning his windows into loop-holes, nay, intersecting and abridging that prospect which in Thames-street his imagination had fondly pictured from the great bowwindow, with mullions, and buttresses and iron frames: to cut off all communication with the neighbouring grounds, by turning the horsepond into a moat; and hazard the danger of a ducking, by crossing a trembling drawbridge, when a few tenpenny nails would have precluded the possibility. But we must now return to our author: and, though we cannot but regret that he treats a subject of such positive magnitude with such comparative indifference, we cannot resist laying before our Readers one of the most happy pieces of descriptive poetry we have for some time met with; the more so, as it tends strongly to confirm our preceding observations, and exhibit the inconveniencies these worthy men are compelled to submit to, to protect themselves against some powerful, though to us unknown, ene

mies.

The cop'd-up bed-room in a turret round, [bound, &c. &c." Or cork-screw stair-case in its narrow

But, having now returned to the Poem, we find,, and we blush to confess it, that all this has been the creation of our own brain, the deInsion of our fears. We have in fact discovered it is a matter of taste! and the Poem before us, but a just and general satire against this folly. We apologize, and have done.

The Author, in his Preface, justly observes, that of late years, "the Castle has been contracted into a dwarf, deformed with unnatural excrescences;" whilst the "cottage has been expanded into the gigantic dimensions of the palace." Modern castles, abbeys, and cottages, are indeed absurd: this apish humour, which has spread among us, is ridiculous beneath ridicule as our poet justly observes, the buildings have but one feature in common with their venerable prototypes:

“The new-built castle shews its borrow'd air, [pride; Aping old Conway's or Caernarvon's Its only likeness, that the rifted side, And gaping fissure of disjointed wall, Proclaim it nodding quickly to its fall." Our Author, with a more than usual earnestness, wishes to impress on his Reader, that of Architecture, as a science, he professes little knowledge. His observations are, certain ly, such as might be culled without much difficulty; but the good taste and good sense which directed him in his pursuit, added to the perspicuity of his style, sometimes however too abrupt, renders the Preface, as a whole, a pointed and spirited little

essay.

Of the Poem, to which we have now come, the opening is unfortunately the worst part; jejune and vapid, it is without novelty or poetry to compensate: it is evidently las boured; and we expect that the Author will think with Sir Fretful, that we are most unfortunate in our ob jection; but so it is. It then proceeds to a description of the modern cot, castle, and abbey. On one of them we have dwelt sufficiently long; and we cannot better entertain our Readers than by extracting some of our Poet's observations on the others.

"Lo, where yon Abbey, built by pious hands, [mands: From humble Laics rev'rence meet deWhat mitred Priest within its cloister'd wall

[stall? Keeps holy state in high cathedral'd Shut out a madd'ning world's intruding joys, [voice? What vespers rise to Heav'n in chaunted What fasting brethren saintly vigils keep, [and weep?' What pale-ey'd virgins wake to pray No meagre fasts the jolly inmates keep, And glist'ning female eye does aught but

weep:

Each note but that of sacred song, re:sounds, [abounds. And, every nymph but sainted nun, In other style the straw-thatch'd Cot is ;Morfound, [ground: With curtains chintz, and windows to the With coach-house double, and with stables two, [sive view: Pine-house, and green-house, and extenHer yen'son's frugal meal where Temper ance takes, [makes, And Chastity's own hand her down-bed And sometimes trembles. frailty will And taint these virtuous humble roofs creep in, [with sin."

The description of the modern garden, or rather of the models and slides, a contrivance by which "not only the present scenery is shewn, but the future anticipated," is in a high spirit of poetry. We would willingly proceed; but, as it may save some honest country gentleman a few hundreds, we venture to extract the following half dozen lines:

"O'er bare-worn heaths is spread th' unby wonted green, The stately oak for bramble-bush is seen; The gay parterre for dock and nettle

grows;

For fetid hen-bane odorif'rous rose. Remove the slide, the forest's gone again, And all is bramble-bush and barren plain."

Having now censured what really exists, the Poet, naturally enough, gives us such a residence and such scenery as he has fondly pictured as the seat of bliss. if the Reader expects to find

On Summer eves by haunted stream," "Such sights as youthful poets dream

he will find himself grievously mis taken; this Eden of imagination is to us a very dull and stupid sort of place; and we rather suspect our Poet has not wandered much in the

fields of Fancy, but has given us an indifferent description of what really exists within his own knowledge.

This is followed by a sketch of the progress of Architecture, broken in on by a highly-spirited apostrophe to Charles I.; and here the Author has shewn his usual good sense, in avoiding all political feeling, and commending Charles for, what all parties must admit, his taste for the Fine Arts. The fall of the Stuarts, glorious as it was to Liberty, and loved as it should be by Englishmen, was a blow to Science in this country it has never recovered. His present Majesty has done something; but much remains to be done.

In his cursory observations on the Architecture of the Metropolis, there is a great deal of accurate discrimination; a love of his subject is every where animating him; and though we expected the front of the Pantheon would have attracted his no-. tice, and that he would have beeu somewhat more animated at St. Stephen's Walbrook, he exceeded our most sanguine expectation at Whitehall. His observations on the Mansion-house are of necessity common, for censure is worn threadbare on the subject. But we must conclude our extracts, and cannot do better than in shewing the felicity with which even so hackneyed a subject may be treated by a man of true poetic feeling. The Reader will perceive it is only the winding up of his ob

scrupulous on this head, we could have furnished him with a few more: we must be understood, however, to speak literally.

On the whole, the present Poem appears to have been written with considerable care, by one of much knowledge and ability; some parallel passages are here and there scattered in the notes; but the Author is very little indebted to others. however, he wished to have been very

11. Practical Observations on Telescopes. sm. 8vo. pp. 114. Bagster.

ONE of the principal designs of this ingenjous scientific Tract is, to circulate a knowledge of the prin ciples upon which that class of Optical Instruments may be constructed with increased certainty, and used with more facility and satisfaction; also to direct unpractised amateurs of Astronomy in the choice of Telescopes, and particularly to dispel the vulgar prejudice, that an apparatus of unwieldy magnitude, costly even to the opulent purchaser, rarely con structed with entire success, and ex-' tremely difficult to manage, is indispensably necessary to discern the most beautiful of the wonders describ. ed by astronomers, and which eluded the search of all the Ancient Philosophers by their remoteness or delicate minuteness. It will be a grate ful stimulus to the private Student to know, that he can keep pace with modern discovery by the aid of instruments convenient to use, and cast to obtain.

Underneath this marble hearse." JUNSON.

From the interest of the subject, the accurate knowledge displayed upon it, and the engaging simplicity of the style, we are induced to recommend this little Manual to the attention of our Readers; for whose amusement, as one specimen of the original information to be met with in the book, we transcribe the following brief memoir:

:

"The highest praise is due to the inerits of the late Mr. Jesse Ramsden, for his ingenuity, liberality, and persevering endeavours to invent and perfect the various instruments used in Astronomy, Philosophy, and Mathematics; to produce which, he devoted all his time, and almost all the profits of his very extensive trade in carrying on which, his anxiety was not (like the razor-maker, who merely made his goods to sell) to study and contrive how cheap he could make an instrument, and how dear he could sell it, his sole care was to make it as perfect as possible, and he spared neither pains nor expense in' forming an instrument, or bringing it to perfection; and the method he pur sued, though singular, almost invariably produced ultimate success. Without the

least

and appeared, in this domestic group, contentedly happy. When he occasionally sent for a workman, to give him necessary directions concerning what he wished to have done, he first showed the recent finished plan, then explained the different parts of it, and generally concluded by saying, with the greatest good humour, Now, see, man, let us try to find fault with it,' and thus by putting two heads together, to scrutinize his own performance, some alteration was probably made for the better. But, whatever expense an instrument bad cost in forming, if it did not fully answer the intended design, he would immediately say, after a little examination of the work, Bobs, man! this won't do, we must-have at it again:" and then the whole of that was put aside, and a new instrument begun. By means of such perseverance, he succeeded in bringing various mathematical, philosophical, and astronomical instruments to perfection. The large theodolite for terrestrial measurements, and the equal altitude instrument for astronomy, will always be monuments of his fertile, penetrating, arduous, superior genius! There cannot be a lover (especially of this most difficult part) of philosophy, in any quarter of the globe, but must admire the abilities, and respect the memory, of Jesse Ramsden!"

Rules to be committed to Memory, and repeated after the manner of reciting the Rules in the Latin Syntax, Students may learn to articulate every Word with Propriety; be assisted in the removal of minor Impediments; be taught to modulate the Voice, and to speak with Accuracy of Inflexión, from the easiest to the most difficult Specimens of English Oratorical Composi tion. By James Wright, Public and Private Teacher of English Elocution. 12mo. pp. 254. Miller.

IN a dedication to the Rev. Dr. Thomson, of Kensington, the Author observes,

"It is now five and twenty years since the late Mr. Walker was introduced to Kensington School; and the successful efforts of many of your pupils in the Senate, the Bar, and the Pulpit, sufficiently prove the excellence of your system of Education."

Of himself he afterwards says,

Many years' experience in the science and practice of Elocution has convinced me, that the circumstances which should first occupy the attention of the Teacher, should be the capabilities of the Auricular, Vocal, and Enunciative organs of his pupils; and, upon examination, if he perceive them defective in action, or from ill habit incapable of performing their offices, he should endeavour to render them distinct, sonorous, and swelling and it may be noticed, that in early life, under proper management, the ear may be almost always made capable of guiding the voice in every modulation of which the oral powers are known to be susceptible. To accomplish this desirable purpose, I place before the first class of pupils, se lected pieces of easy composition, lecture them in it, according to the most familiar manner possible, concerning im pediments, and in the repetition, direct their attention to the acquirement of distinctness only of articulation. This accomplished, the various constructions of periods may afterwards be treated upon with effect; for which purpose, I present them with chosen instances of compact and loose sentences, including the series, gradation, and climax; and point out the practical rules for the management of the voice in pronouncing each-so that thoroughly comprehending the nature and effect of the grand and fundamental rule of suspending the voice with the rising inflexion, to the long pause (which is where meaning begins to form), and being enabled to exemplify gradational Inflexions before and after the long pause, in the three

or