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lential heats beneath the Line, or faced the ice and rigors of the wintry Baltic; whether the soldier marched on the plains of Indostan, amidst the burning sands of Egypt, or the chilling fogs of Zealand and Copenhagen ; whether the rocks of Malta, the wastes of Arragon, or the summits of the Pyrenees, resounded with the din of arms and the uproar of battle, the wonted vigour and valour of our unrivalled combatants never deserted them, but ensured, in every field, and on every theatre of action, the wellearned wreaths of conquest and of glory. No want of cordiality and union in the leaders and followers of the two services, the bane of many noble enterprizes, betrayed itself; but each man contributed his full share to the common end, as if the event depended on his single arm. In a word, to use a phrase of the immortal chief, whose memory and example will never be forgotten when this subject is discussed, every man did his duty' with a promptitude and alacrity, which deserved, while it ensured, the victory:

“ These auspicious preparatives, tranquillity at home and victory abroad, conducted us, as might easily be anticipated, Thirdly, To the wished for result, ultimate success, in an honourable and we hope a lasting peace.

** As to our own country, it is raised to a pinnacle of greatness and glory, which it never attained before. Magnanimous and enlightened in policy, and invincible in arms, Britain sustains the high character of being the refuge and avenger of afflicted nations; she alone was able to stem the torrent, which must otherwise have overwhelmed them, owing, as they do, their existence to her aid and to her example. We have only to bless God for the happy repose and respite which we have gained, and to eat'our bread in patience and peace.”

We gladly insert in our pages these just and worthy sentiments, which we are persuaded will recommend the discourse itself, written in the humble retirement of a country village, more strongly than any words we could possibly use.

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Art. X. Thoughts on Charitable Institutions. By Catharine

Cappe. 8vo. pp. 110. 3s. Longman and Co. 1814. MRS. Cappe, as we collect but too strongly from her writings, is a dissenter; båt as we are always ready to acknowledge merit wherever it is to be found, we are happy in recommending this publication to all governors of old charity-schools, foundlinghospitals, and asylums for female orphans. The chapter which recommends the appointment of a committee of ladies in all hospitals and infirmaries to superintend the female wards, is peculiarly worthy the attention of the directors of those institutions.


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The address to females of the rising generation is distinguished for its practical good sense. All those indeed who are actually employed in alleviating the miseries and in promoting the happiness of their poorer fellow-creatures, will find in this publication many

useful hints and directions. Mrs. Cappe appears to understand thoroughly the practical part of that benevolence, which has the education and the preservation of females for its object.

We are bound at the same time to protest against some por. tiony of the work, and especially the Appendix, as containing many absurd' and mischievous opinions respecting the religious part of charitable education. Mrs. Cappe's opinions, however, are too openly stated to mislead any, but the weakest ; the separation of the good from the bad is not a difficult task, we trust therefore that it will be made.

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pp. 16i.

Art. XI. Familiar Poems, Moral and Religious. By Susannah Wilson. ismo.

Darton. 1814, Of the beneficial consequences which arise from educating, and giving religious feelings and habits to the poor, the author of this little volume affords an incontestible and striking proof. Though the laudable attention paid by her mother to these essential points, has not made her a poet, it has enabled her to become an estimable member of society: it has taught her to perform her duties with correctness and cheerfuluess, and to lighten her toils by intellectual amusement. In the preface, her uneventful, but not instructive history, is given by the gentleman who has published her verses, under the idea that they will be “ read with pleasure and edification by the juvenile part of the community,” Susannah Wilson is of humble parentage : her father was a journeyman weaver, and her mother a very pious woman, who was anxious that her children should have an early acquaintance with the important truths of the bible; from whence it is evident that Susannah has drawn most of her sentiments and reflections. Susannah was born in Kingslandroad, in the year 1787. She learned to improve her reading at a Sunday school, and to write at an evening school. Her father, though industrious and provident, was rather averse to her mother's religious principles, yet left her to follow her own inclinațion in the education of ber children, which she was assiduous in doing, to the best of her ability. For many years past, they lived in a little cottage in St. Maithew's, Bethnal Green, reared by her father, op a spot of garden-ground, which he hired at a


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low rent, and where two of the daughters still reside, and pursue the weaving business, to which they were all bred. While thus engaged, she says, verses spontaneously flowed into her mind, which she took every opportunity of committing to paper. The cultivation of his little garden was a favourite employment of her father at leisure intervals, and afforded him a grateful relief from the labours of the loom. To use lier own language, her “ father was so fond of vine-dressing, that his little cottage was covered with fruitful vines :" for many years the lived under his own vine,' and under it he died;" at which period her parents had been married forty-six years. Her mother survived him only one year and sixteen days. Confined almost exclusively to the narrow range of her own family circle, Susannah worked at her father's business till about three years since; when, owing to a bad state of health, from excessive application to a sedentary business, she was recommended to seek a service, for the sake of more active employment. Providence directed her to the family at Hackney, with whom she still remains, and fulfils the domestic duties assigned her, with conscientious fidelity. Hitherto her reading had been almost entirely confined to her Bible, Dr. Watts's Hymns, and two or three other religious works ; but, as-she advanced in years, she took every opportunity of procuring books, and Milton, Young, and some other authors, fell into her hands, which she read with great avidity. She like wise had the advantage of acquiring a little knowledge of English grammar. This was a stimulus to poetical exertions, and she devoted almost all her leisure time to writing verses.

The verses of Susannah Wilson are sufficiently flowing; and the sentiments which they express are uniformly pious and be. nevolent. The following poem may be taken as a fair specimen.

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thine eye ;

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« On a Flower opening to the Sun.

Sweet flower! behold the rising sun-
Scarce has his morning race begun,
When thou dost

What gentle voice or whisper soft,
Tells thee to rear thine head aloft,

And greet him in the sky?
* What secret power impels thy leaf
To close, and pass the time in grief,

When he has gone his round?
In vain the beauteous orbs of night,
The moon and stars in vain unite,

To raise thee from the ground.

56 Astonished

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« Astonish'd now,

I stand and view
Hast thou both sense and feeling too?

What wonders I behold!
The flower, I thought, would droop and die,
When darkness veil'd the midnight sky;

Now its fair leaves unfold!
" Thus conscions is my opening mind,
When the reviving rays I find

Of my more glorious sur ;
My hopes revive, my spirits rise,
My faith salutes the smiling skies,

And thinks her warfare done.
“ But when the evening shades returii,
And I am left the light to mourn,

My spirit droops again :
Nor men, nor angels, all combin'd,
Could e'er relieve my burden'd mind,

Or ease me of my pain."

pp. 167.

ART. XII. The Lay of the Poor Fiddler; a Parody on the

Lay of the Last Minstrel, with Notes and Illustrations. By an Admirer of Walter Scott. Small 8vo.

Crosby. 1814. Of that kind of burlesque which endeavours to degrade and throw ridicule on those things and feelings, which are in themselves virtuous and sublime, we confess that we are no admirers. Nor, of course, do we think that the spreading of a taste for it is at all to be desired. We fear, however, that this taste" has increased," and " is increasing," and if it have and be so, we are quite sure, that it " ought to be diminished.” Of its increase the numberless songs, parodies, and travesties, which have appeared of late years, seem to us to furnish an irrefragable proof. No sooner does a poem of merit issue from the press, thau fifty doggrel writers are at work to produce a ludicrous imitation. Even Shakespeare himself is not safe from these profane jackpuddings; a fact to which ample testimony is borne by some recent travesties of his finést plays. It would not at all surprize us, were we soon to see the Paradise Lost treated in a similar


In spite of the general favour with which works of this kind are received, we contend that they ought not to be encouraged, and even that the encouragement which is given to them reflects


on the

disgrace on those who give it. Nothing that elevates, or softens, or purities, the mind, ought to be made the theme of vulgar mirth. The fine affections, the dignified emotions, should be religiously kept sacred from all contamination. They are like female honour, which, in some degree, suffers impeachment, merely from its possessor being seen in the company of those persons, the spotlessness of whose honour is doubtful. When the mind is accustomed to associate light and low ideas with great ones, the latter will inevitably be regarded with less reverence than they should be; and from diminished respect to utter contempt the distance is small and speedily passed over. In our opinion, every thing that is in itself essentially serious, is an improper object of ridicule. It is not laughter that we object to, for, in defiance of Lord Chesterfield, we can laugh as heartily as most men; but we think that there is an abundance of laughable subjects, which may be fairly treated in a burlesque style ; and that there is as little necessity to vio. late dignified subjects, as there is propriety of feeling and delicacy of taste in those who do it.

The hoary sinner, who calls himself Peter Pindar, was one of the first, and we believe the very first, of late years, to in. dulge in the hateful practice of which we complain. There is scarcely a tender or pious sentiment which he has not strenuously laboured to render ridiculous. We remembér reading, long ago, with extreme disgust, a part of one of his poems, in which be draws a deeply-pathetic picture of a cousumptive husband, on the verge of the grave, lamenting in the dead of night his approaching separation from a beloved wife, and, while he deems her asleep, breathing his fondest prayers over her; upon which she turns round in bed, and, nuttering to herself, “ wonders the filthy fellow is not dead.

Examples of folly and vice are never long unimitated. We have since been inundated by a deluge of similar brutal pro

ductions. It is with a blush for the thoughtlessness, to give it i no harsher a name, of playhouse audiences, that we call to mind the bursts of laughter which have been excited by the vulgar doggrel of “Miss Bailey." The charm of this song we are wholly at a loss to discover. What are the subjects of this delightful ditty? Seduction, consequent suicide, remorse of conscience, and the appearance of a guilty disembodied spirit. Excellent food indeed for risibility! When this trash was first sung, had those who applauded it had a proper sense of their duty, they would have hooted it indignantly from the stage.

It may, perhaps, be said, that as we dislike this species of burlesque, we are incapacitated from doing justice to it when, in its way, it really has merit. This we deny. We may not like, for

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