are inculcated in a series of very interesting narratives. The language combines ease with elegance, and simplicity with energy. This work will prove a most welcome present to the guard ans of youth, as well as to youth itself: and we heartily wish success to our author, whose talent have been so laudably exerted in the cause of truth and virtue.

Blair's Class Book is one of those performances which appear to demand almost unqual fied praise.

The execution, as well as the plan, of Miss H y's Historical Dialogues for Young Persons, is greatly open to censuse. The use of such a book must be rather injurious than beneficial.

The Friend of Youth as pointing out the most eligible trade, &c. will be found useful for the proposed purpose. It is, however, too general; and is not without omissions and redundancies.

Wilkinson's Tour through Asia Minor and the Greek Islands, will afford the juvenile reader much pleasing information with respect to the inhabitants, natural productions, and curiosities, of those parts.

It is long since we perused a work upon Natural History, intended for youth, so truly unobjectionable and so highly praise-worthy as Mr. Bigland's Letters on that branch of education. Books of this description are generally reprehensible on the score of indelicacy; but Mr. Bigland has carefully and totally excluded all indelicate expressions, and indeed every thing that could have the most remote tendency to contaminate the youthful mind. Of course, we hesitate not to give it the warmest recommendation.

POETS.

"Mongst all the instances of genius crost,
The rhyming tribe are those who err the most.
Each piddling wretch, who hath but common sense,
Or thinks he hath, to verse shall make pretence."

Notwithstanding the justness of the above lines, we think highly-most highly-of the genuine offspring of the poetic muse.

3 Happy the babe whose natal hour
The Muse propitious deigns to grace,
No frowns on his soft forehead low'r,

No cries distort his tender face;

But o'er her child, forgetting all her pangs,

Insatiate of her smiles, the raptur'd parent hangs."
VANSITTART.

It is, however, to the legitimate sons of poesy that this applies, and not to those incorrigibles, who are constantly scribbling against the force of genius.

Amongst the first of our modern bard,, stands Scott, the author of that justly-admired poem, The Lay of the last Minstrel. By his Ballads and Lyrical Pieces, collected from various publications, in which they had at different times been scattered, he has rendered a material service to poetical literature.

Mr. Jamieson, in collecting his Popular Ballads and Songs, has bestowed great pains. These volumes indeed display an unusual portion of labour, erudition, and taste: from the copious notes which are appended, much useful and amusing information may be derived; and we sincerely hope, that the success attendant on the publication inay be such as to induce the learned editor to extend his labours.

To the elegant Sotheby we are considerably indebted for his translation of Oberon, from the German, This poem is regarded, in its native country,

as the finest piece which modern Europe has produced, since Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered; and, in the English language, it is likely to maintain a distinguished rank.

The last victory of the immortal Nelson, as it called forth numerous biographical accounts of its hero, so also has it given birth to a variety of poetical effusions. Amongst these, Drummond's Battle of Trafalgar stands pre-eminent. The following beautiful description of a morning at sea, will sufficiently justify the praise which we bestow :---

"Fair from her ruby throne, with roseate smiles,
The morninglory cloth'd the sparkling isles;
Light o'er the billows' glassy concaves roll'd
The playful radiance of her fluid gold;
The silve. y surges drank the purple day,
And rainbow colours ting'd the dashing spray;
The milk-white foam along the pebbly strand
Danc'd on the surf, or fring'd the rustling sand;
While round and round the sportive sea fowl flew,
Or dipp'd their plumage iu the briny dew:
The silken pendants from the tow'ring mast,
Stream'd o'er the wave, and wanton'd in the blast;
The furrowing keels the sounding ocean plough'd,
With sailors' cries the cliffs re-echo'd loud."

Dr. Halloran's Battle of Trafalgar also possesses no mean portion of merit; but it is frequently defective, in rugged versification, harshness of rhymes, and redundancy of epithet.

66

Some of the lines, in the poem of Ulm and Trafalgar, as we have stated in our Notices, are thought to have been produced by the late Mr. Pitt, in his last hours. Their patriotism is worthy of that deparied statesman's pen. Contrasting Joy's bursting shout," drowned in " whelming grief," when the remains of the lost Nelson arrived, with the supposed public feeling at the death of Buonaparte, the poet exclaims :—

"Not joy thus doubtful, sadness thus sincere,

Shall grace, erewhile, the Tyrant-Conqueror's bier:

Whether, with undiscriminating sweep,
The scythe of war, amid the mangled heap,
Shall lay him low; or lone, corroding care,
Without one heart to pity or to share,
And cheerless toils of solitary sway,

Shall waste his withering frame with slow decay;
Come when it will, from Heav'n's all-righteous hand,
To save, or to avenge, each injur'd land,

Nations shall kneel to bless the welcome doom;
And France, unfetter'd, trample on his tomb!"

Many of our friends will be pleased to learn, that Mr. Polwhele has collected his fugitive pieces, and presented them to the public in a well-arranged form.

The poems of Mrs. Robinson have also been collected; and, with some original pieces, have been published in a new edition. This lady's productions, as well as those of Mr. Polwhele, are too well known to require farther remark,

It is with sincere pleasure, that we have to mention, amongst the poetical offerings of the year, a re-publication and revision of Mr. Pratt's celebrated 'SYMPATHY," being the tenth time of its appearing before the public, who, we are persuaded, will greet it as an old, valuable, and fast friend, whose society has been ever welcome and ever dear.. It is associated with the beautiful "COTTAGE PICTURES," which have long since received our tribute, and which are now rendered still more worthy, by being new modelled, in the political parts, to suit the temper of the present moment. Our old acquaintances, the "TEARS OF GENIUS," and "LANDSCAPES IN VERSE," likewise meet our welcome in the present selection; as do several smaller pieces of equal merit and pretension: added to which, the engravings, after the pencils of LOUTHERBOURG and BAKER, are most admirably executed, and are well deserving of room amongst the pages which they illustrate and adorn. In short, this is one of the most elegant pocket volumes, in every way wherein it may be

viewed, which we have had the satisfaction of announcing to our readers for a long time. Sympathy has some highly attractive original passages, from which, as a specimen, we here select the following:

"E'en now, where dread Bellona fiercest reigns
O'er Prussia's cities, and on Brunswick's plains;
Where ruthless anarchy again has hurl'd
To second chaos the distemper'd world;

And peace and plenty, exil'd from their home,

And doom'd, like vagrants, o'er that world to roam;
Or left to famish on their native soil,

While the flush'd victor fattens on the spoil;
Yes, there, intrepid Sympathy appears,
Like Mercy's angel, loveliest in her tears:
Her equal cares, her equal boons extend
To prince, to peasant, enemy, and friend;
For Mercy's angel no distinction knows,
And feels no partial pang for human woes ;
But on the balanc'd pinion instant flies
Far from the victor, where the vanquish'd lies :
To where the indignant warrior shuns relief,
Or wailing widow dies in speechless grief;
To where, O FERDINAND, too proudly brave,
Thy youthful valour found an early grave;
And where, thick-folded in funereal gloom,
The virtues mourn at Brunswick's sacred tomb,"

That heavy, coarse, and vulgar writer, Holcroft, has produced a couple of volumes, of what he calls. Tales in VERSE, critical, SATYRICAL, and HUMOROUS ! It certainly was an act of kindness, on the part of the author, to inform the reader that his Tales were in verse, as, otherwise, we should have concluded, that, from a blunder of the printer, some "prose run mad" had been disposed in lines so as to resemble poetry! With respect to these said Tates in VERSE being critical, SATYRICAL, and HUMOROUS, the information was doubly kind; for, had we not been told to the contrary, we should uncharitably have considered them as the dullest, most unmeaning trash that ever fell within our critical cognizance. Doubtless,