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of Lady Greville's approaching confinement, when one morning he was surprised by the arrival of a courier from the Duke of Buckingham. The letter was one of mere compliment, but it enclosed another addressed to “ Miss Marchmont;" and concluded with announcing the memorable victory obtained by the English fleet over the Dutch admiral, De Ruyter:

“What news from the court?' enquired Theresa. * At once good and bad, replied her husband; we have obtained a brilliant victory over De Ruyter; but, alas! it has cost us the lives of several of our most distinguished officers, She started from her seat, and, wildly approaching Lord Greville, whispered in a tone of suppressed agony, "Tell me tell me truly-is he deau?' Of whom do you speak?' said Greville. Of him-of my beloved-my betrothed-of Percy-of my own Percy !' said she, with frantic violence. Her husband attempted to pacify her by an indefinite reply to her inquiries, but in vain. • Do not deceive me,' said she; 'Greville, you were ever good and generous ; tell me, did he know all — did he curse me—did he seek his death? It occurred to the unhappy husband that the letter which he held in his hand might be from- from her dead'lover; and, with a sensation of loathing, he gave it to her. She tore it open, and a lock of hair dropped from the envelope. It contained a few lines dictated by Percy in his dying moments. The perusal plunged the unhappy Theresa into a state of hopeless distraction, Before night, she was a raving maniac, and in that state she was delivered of a dead infant."

Three years after this period, an accident introduces Lord Greville to the Percy family; and he becomes fascinated with a playful girl, towards whom his age enables him to assume an almost parental authority, while he exercises, in turn, the parts of playmate and preceptor. This charmer was the sister of the late Lord Percy, the lover of his unfortunate wife. Imperceptibly the nature of his affection for the girl changed, “as he saw her gradually expand into the maturer pride of womanhood, and acquire that feminine gentleness, that dignified simplicity of character, which had attracted him in Theresa Marchmont.” Analysis now fails in the power to do justice to the talents of the author. We must refer to the volume itself for the admirable delineation of the forlorn state of mind in which Lord Greville was placed, as well as for the strongly delusive arguments which impelled him to deceive the amiable and lovely creature whose heart was his and his alone, so far as to make her his supposed wife, whilst the unhappy maniac, Theresa, was still a living prisoner in a remote old mansion belonging to the heirs of Greville. This is a subject that cannot be coldly analyzed; indeed, it required a superior genius to succeed in depicting such scenes as naturally arise from such situations, and we are happy in saying that Mrs. Gore (we trust she is a British lady,) has, according to our taste and judgment, perfectly succeeded;

and we cannot entertain a doubt that “Theresa Marchmont" will have as many real admirers as “ Ourika,” though fashion may not bestow upon them so much eclat.

Oriental Wạnderings; or, the Fortunes of Felix. By T. E.-3 vols.

12mo. Newman and Co. Stories of mere imagination, which are destitute of every pretension to good taste or good writing, have no claim upon public attention; and, if the heat of an author's brain, or the total want of all other employment, cause the unlucky wight to scrawl vulgar nonsense, he should have sufficient regard for the interests, if not for the opinion, of others, and confine his lucubration to a manuscript existence. We wish with all our hearts that T. E. had adopted such a line of conduct, and spared us the pain of reading and condemning his Oriental Wanderings.

Illustrations, Critical, Historical, Biographical, and Miscellaneous, of Novels,

by the Author of Waverley. By the Rev. Richard Warner, Rector of Great

Chalfield, Wilts. - 12mo. 3 vols. Longman and Co. MR. WARNER has condescended to publish, as an adventure of profit, Illustrations of the products of the northern manufactory of novels. He treats them as "sheer lucre speculations,yet furnishes them with the puff-oblique in the very title-page and advertisement of his work. Is it not enough, that the proof-sheets are sent up to writers of pantomimes and melodramas —that the poetry bé transmitted to composers of ballads for the piano-forte--that preliminary notices should fill the papers in town and country, and quotations occupy their simultaneous columns? Why must Mr. Warner, in the simplicity of his good intentions, contribute to raise the dead and buried, and to sustain the memory of the forgotten?

As a melange of historical curiosities, Mr. W.'s work will, however, be read with interest, independently of the novels which derive their own interest from the very same materials. In truth, of the two, his version of the same facts, in three volumes, at one guinea, is to be preferred to the version of the novelist in twenty volumes at ten guineas; for in the one we have the unvarnished tale; while, in the others, the ounce of gold is beat out into the thinnest gilding, and, being fashioned to the taste of purchasers, is sought as pure ore by those who are the dupes of outside appearance.

POETRY.
Prose and Verse; by Jane Webb.-- Wrightson, Birmingham ;

Baldwin and Co, London. The volume now before us contains four tales in prose, written with ability, the best being that of the Nine Muses, (from the French of Florian,) who having undertaken the tuition of a pretty urchin, found by Thalia at the foot of Parnassus, are by him bereft of all their accustomed attributes. The story winds up with Minerva chancing to pay a visit to the Muses, when the tale concludes as follows :

“At length the nine Muses, one after the other, appeared, hanging down their heads, and betraying every sign of confusion and shame, What is the matter?' asked the goddess, in a stern voice, Thalia, where is your mask?' 'I have given it to a child I found playing at the foot of the mountain,' answered the Muse, in a faltering voice.

And, Melpomene, where is your dagger ?? !I have given it to the same child, having first blunted its point, lest it should hurt him.' The goddess pursued her questions, and soon found that, in fact, all the attributes of the Muses were become the playthings of this malicious infant. At the moment, chancing to look up, they saw the fatal boy hovering in the air over their heads. In his hand he held his plunder. “Adieu,' cried 'he, as he flew off laughing, don't forget me, I am Love. It always costs something to make an acquaintance with me.'' Crit. Guz. Vol. 1, No. 6,

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The ensuing story of the Two Dogs (altered from Cervantes) is novel in its kind, and by no means destitute of point. In short, the whole are appropriated for juvenile readers; and from their moral tendency, are well calculated to improve the heart, and amuse the youthful mind.

In the department of poetry, Miss Webb’s compositions may rank with those which generally emanate from youthful tyros. We are of opinion, that the young lady would do well to apply her thoughts exclusively to prose; or if the cacoethes for versifying be beyond the pale of controu), let her rest satisfied with translating the productions of others, for which walk of literature the annexed specimens testify her qualifications,-qualifications certainly above mediocrity.

“SONNET, TRANSLATED FROM PETRARCH.

Era'l giorno ch'al sol si scolaro." “ The poet addresses himself to Laura, and describes the time when he first saw her, supposed to be on Good Friday, the 6th of April, 1327.

“ 'Twas on that day the sun withdrew its light,

In pity for its Maker's fatal woes,

That I, unthinking, lost my soul's repose,
For thy bright eyes, O Lady! caught my sight.
It seem'd not time to guard against the flight

Of love's keen darts; no dark suspicion rose,

That on that day my peaceful hours should close.
But ah! amidst the general gloom, my night
Began; Love found me open to his dart,
And through my eyes

found

my

heart-
Those eyes from whence now only tears depart.
And sure 'twas base to wound a feeble foe,
Who was not able to withstand the blow,
Whilst to you, strongly armed, he dared not shew his bow.”

passage to

Quanto piu eu'avviceino al giorno estremo." The poet speaks to himself and his thoughts.

• When time shall steal my youth away,

And life shall feebly lingering lie,

How shall I mark the moments fly
And each fallacious hope decay?
Then to my wandering thoughts I'll say,

No more let love inspire each sigh;
For soon this form shall fading lie,
Like snow beneath noon's fervid ray.
Then shall I rest, for then will fali

The hopes I've doated on so long ;
And clearly then shall I see all

That here with doubts my fancy stung.
My tears, my sorrow, rage, and joy,

Shall vanish like a long-drawn sigh. It appears very probable that Mr. Moore had his eye upon this sonnet of Petrarch when he wrote the ballad commencing When time, who steals our years away,” &c.

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DRAMA. Der Freischütz travestie. By Septimus, Globus, Esq. With 12

Etchings, by George Cruikshank, from Drawings by an Amateur ; and the original Tale whereon the German Opera is founded. 8vo.

pp. 68. 5s. 6d. Never was there a fitter subject for !ampoon than this barbarous German production, and it is really disgraceful to a London audience to tolerate its performance. We are glad to see that it has drawn forth the talent of Cruikshank, who would equal Hogarth, if his caricature were not in the drawing as well as design. Hogarth's wit lay in the design, not in the figures separately taken; Cruikshank errs in applying extravaganza to his drawing, a fault, the correction of which would elevate him greatly in the scale of art.

The travestie itself is excellent, and ought to be read by every one, before he lends himself to the managerial maneuvres by which this monstrous production has been rendered popular.

Mr. CRUIKSHANK, and his friend Septimus Globus, Esq. deserve well of the republic of taste and letters.

Numbers 2, 3, and 4, of Shakspeare, with Notes, Original and Se

lected; by Henry Neele, Esq. and embellished by G. F. Joseph,

Esq. A.R.A.-8vo. pp. 80. 2s. 6d. MR. NEELE proceeds in his laudable undertaking of giving an elegant and correct edition of Shakspeare, and appears to abide by his original plan of extending his publication not only to the acting plays of the unrivalled dramatist, but to all his acknowledged pieces. The dramas presented to the public in the present numbers, to name them in the order in which they are here given, are The Two Gentlemen of Verona; The Merry Wives of Windsor ; and Twelfth Night. Some readers, perhaps, will think that it would have been as well, had the sub-marginal notes been more copious; but all will acknowledge, that those here selected are judiciously preferred, and that, as far as useful illustration is concerned, the editor has acquitted himself sedulously, faithfully, and ably. We say ably, because, in our opinion, they could not have been better chosen from the vast and various masses from which they are collected; and we say faithfully, because, though they are not numerous, they amount to all that was promised; they constitute such commentaries as really illustrate the text, and explain the meaning of the author.” The graphic embellishments, one of which adorns each number of the publication, exhibit the same skill and attention as are demonstrated by the excellencies of the first; and will scarcely, fail to add to the general recommendations of the work.

MISCELLANIES. Another Article for the Quarterly Review. By William Hone, Author of

Aspersions Answered, &c.-8vo. 6d. The dogmatism of critics is part of their profession; but it ought neither to mislead readers nor pique its objects. The vain creatures

who, out of sight, play the part of literary censors, or the malignant
being who, under favor of custom, contrives thus to stab in the dark,
ought, prima facia, never to be trusted on their own ipse dixit. The
· reader ought, at every turn, not only to demand evidence even for
· literary decisions, but to be obstinately sceptical whenever a writer so
situated is base enough to assail private character.

We now nothing of Mr. Hone, except as a well-behaved and most
intelligent book auctioneer, in which vocation he often pampers
our appetite for curious lore; and has appeared to us to conduct
himself with unquestionable propriety. We have heard of his parodies,
his trials, and his acquittals; and the verdicts of three juries confirmed
our opinion of him and his prosecutors. Not so, however, the writers
of the Quarterly Review, they are changing a prosecution into a per-
secution; and, like fiends, are pursuing an honest man with a vigour
, beyond the law. It is Hone, and not his books or his publications,
they are at war with. These, of whatever. nature, serve as pegs on
which to hang their malevolence.

If Hone has committed any error, it is in bestowin gany notice on those who thus abuse the press; and we hope his vanity in proving himself more than their match, has had no influence in promoting the controversy.

The jet of Mr. Hone's case is contained in the first and last paragraphs of his pamphlet:

" A young hand at iniquity, detected in his tricks, applied to an old practitioner for advice : Oh! (said the hacknied sinner,) ride high, and lie hard and fast; give your adversary the lie direct; stick to it, and ride over him! Yes, (answered the novice,) but what will people say? Pho! pho! (replied the other,) not one in a hundred will take the trouble to enquire whose right; and the rest will be on your side, if you bully well! The spirit of this counsel animates the Quarterly reviewer of the Apocryphal New Testament, throughout his late defence (in No. 60, August, 1824), against my pamphlet of February last, entitled, ASPERSIONS ANSWERED. With the exception of his article on the Apocryphal New Testament, which I answered, point by point, in that pamphlet, I do not remember so flagrant an instance of critical fraud as his reply. His policy was silence; but his sufferings, from the exposure of his dishonesty, blind him to his interest ;

and the falsifications by which he seeks to relieve himself, impose upon me the necessity of laying bare his new imposture.”

I was to be written down at any rate, and the reviewer proceeds on the nefarious principle that the end justifies the means. Under his last fraud, by which he sought to retrieve himself from my former exposure, and to effect his escape by defaming me, I was not less and could not afford to be more than human. I have proved it to be the miserable defence of a miserable man, who ever double, both in his words and meaning, gives the clergy ili exampleI have done with him. My foe has drunk of the cup of his deservings, and the Quarterly will not afford a‘dole' on the border,' for the fall 'of so foul a champion. If writers like these are encouraged by that Review, it will become 'a bolting hutch of beastliness;" from whence sleek vermin will ever and anon be dragged forth, to suffer for their predatory irruptions. The attitude of the Quarterly is a commanding one, but it can only be secured by moral qualities. Should it print high numbers, with a succession of such articles as I have discussed, Mr. Murray's warehouse for it will presentó a boundless continuity of waste!”

If the conductors of the Quarterly Review have the wisdom which they profess, they will retreat from a field which covers them with disgrace, and they will sever themselves from the slanderer who has betrayed their confidence, by mingling his personal prejudices with his duty to them and to literature. On these points there cannot, among honest men, be two opinions; and, being no parties, and not desirous

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