"Well, if I don't succeed, I have succeeded, But have not learn'd to wish it any less.' Again, canto xiv., stanzas 9, 10. The world is all before me, or behind; For I have seen a portion of that same, Of passions, too, I've prov'd enough to blame, The And yet I can't help scribbling once a week, poem, then, may be endless, or at least co-existent with the author for so also he says in canto xii., stanzas 54, 55. 'But now I will begin my poem. 'Tis Perhaps a little strange, if not quite new, I've not begun what we have to go through. My muses do not care a pinch of rosin About what's called success, or not succeeding; Such thoughts are quite below the strain they've chosen; 'Tis a great moral lesson they are reading. I thought, at setting off, about two dozen Cantos would do; but at Apollo's pleading, If that my Pegasus should not be foundered, I think to canter gently thro' a hundred.' The sin of punning is also more grievously besetting the noble poet than formerly: for example: 'Generals, some all in armour, of the old And iron time, 'ere lead had ta'en the lead.' (P. 44.) 'Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats.' P 3 (P.45.) • If If she hath no wild boars, she hath a tame Preserve of bores, who ought to be made game.' (P.46.) •And though these lines should only line portmanteaus, • Love bears within its breast the very germ Of change; and how should this be otherwise? How should" the tender passion" e'er be tough?" At the outset of this livraison, we are told that it is to be very correct and chastened: Good people all, of every degree, Ye gentle readers and ungentle writers, Malthus and Wilberforce: the last set free. The Negroes, and is worth a million fighters; And Malthus does the thing 'gainst which he writes.' (P.8.) The reader will not now be surprised to hear that Don Juan does not get on much in his progress through life, in the present cantos, and that little or nothing of his acts and deeds occurs in them that is worthy of being quoted. Occasionally, however, we meet with some stanzas that bear a better character. An English autumn, though it hath no vines, " Then, if she hath not that serene decline Which makes the southern autumn's day appear The sea-coal fires, the earliest of the year, In canto xiv., stanza 35, the question of Dr. Johnson, on the subject of hunting, "Does any man do this a second time?" is erroneously given to Lord Chesterfield... Another drama by Lord Byron is here announced as preparing, and hassince appeared, called The Deformed Reformed. Art. 15. Dartmoor, and other Poems. By Joseph Cottle. Crown 8vo. pp. 167. Cadell. 1823. We would gladly be released from saying any thing more of Mr. Cottle's Dartmoor,' than that it is not inferior to the former productions of his pen. Since this writer first assumed the lyre, great changes have taken place in the poetical world, by which his relative reputation has not been benefited. His claims to merit are all of a very moderate kind; and we have now on our table a dozen anonymous poets, quite fresh from the press, ready to dispute those claims with him. Tolerable poetry is an absolute drug on the market; and we earnestly beg any of our readers, who may feel inclined to speculate in that manufacture, to pause before they take so perilous a step. Even good poetry is a commodity with which the public are glutted. A number of miscellaneous poems are also inserted in this volume; in one of which, An Expostulatory Epistle,' poor Lord Byron is dreadfully mangled. We imagine that Mr. Cottle's style is sufficiently known to preclude the necessity of giving any extracts from the present publication. The poem of Dartmoor, it appears, was unsuc cessfully offered to the Royal Society of Literature, as a claimant for one of their prizes. NOVELS. Art. 16. Charlton, or Scenes in the North of Ireland; a Tale. By John Gamble, Esq., Author of "Irish Sketches," "Sarsfield," "Howard," &c. 12mo. 3 Vols. Baldwin and Co. 1823. We have repeatedly mentioned Mr. Gamble's productions, and noted his merit as a writer, together with his particular knowlege of Ireland and its unfortunate domestic state. In the present volumes, he has again treated this heartless yet heart-breaking subject; and in the adventures of his hero Charlton, who was drawn into the late rebellion, he has depicted some of the miserable events to which it gave rise, with feeling and interest, and we doubt not with accuracy. The characters also are drawn and the dialogue is supported with spirit. We question, however, whether it is likely to fulfil any good purpose thus to renew, as it were, the horrors of that period, and certainly the contemplation of them must give pain to every humane mind. Mr. G. apprehends, he says in his preface, that his tale has many faults, but he claims for it the merit of a faithful representation of the people whom it describes. He seems to admit that the tragical events of the time are scarcely fit to become the subject of a novel: but, he adds, Happily a variety of circumstances combined to make it often a scene of wonder, sometimes of admiration, and always one of interest. P 4 interest. The songs are the real songs which were then sung; and they exerted such an influence, that it would be unpardonable to have overlooked them, in a narrative founded on the transactions of those days. The only verses of my composition are the Carmelite Hymn, in the ninth chapter of the third volume, and the concluding lines of the tenth chapter of the same volume. To enumerate the causes which in the North divested the rebellion of many of its terrors, would be to repeat much that I have formerly written. I shall make a few brief observations only. In other parts of Ireland, it is to be lamented that there are only two classes in society and that the third, which is the best, is wanting at the period treated of, it was not wanting here. There were not only three classes, but it may likewise be said, three nations: the gentry, who were the English Irish; the merchants, shop-keepers, and manufacturers, who were the Scotch Irish; and the servants and labourers, who were mostly composed of the native Irish. The second class was by far the most industrious, and possibly was likewise the most enlightened body: equally removed from the extremes of want and wealth, it was in that middle state between poverty and riches, in which the royal preacher wished to be placed. In most other countries, the gentry give the tone to society: here, in a great measure at least, it is the middle class that gives it; it is the link which unites the other two - to a certain degree, correcting their errors, and softening their hatreds. In consequence of this, the gentry of the North are milder in their manners, and bear their faculties more meekly, than in the West and South of Ireland. It is, therefore, among the Presbyterians of Ulster, that the provincial character is to be sought; and it is but justice to them to say, that their virtues are far more numerous than their defects. In general, they are great readers of the Bible. It is the first book that is put into their hands; and all their ideas take a tinge from it, and often their phrases they are accustomed to reflect and to talk on the doctrines it contains; and are, therefore, great reasoners on theological, as well as on other subjects. There are few great farmers the country people are mostly weavers, and have a few acres of land only. This is the ancient, and almost patriarchal mode of life, more favourable to happiness and morality-to national prosperity, though not perhaps to bloated national greatness, than any other. An ardent love of liberty is another strong feature in the northern character. It was the irregular expansion of this spirit which in a great measure caused the rebellion, and which, as well as my slender abilities would allow, I have exhibited in action.' The songs to which Mr. G. alludes have not more poetical than political merit. The following refers principally to the ill-fated Walcheren expedition: Sure, Master John Bull, I shan't know till I'm dead Troth, Troth, I have watch'd you, my dear, day and night, like a cat, Derry down, down, down derry down. But the reason you waste all this blood and this gold Derry down, &c. But your foes, my Derry down, &c. Derry down, &c. "Don't you think it a pretty political touch, To keep shooting your gold in the dams of the Dutch ?. breath, And buying a load of fresh taxes with death. Derry down, &c. Then comes the account, John; and faith, to be frank, 'Tis a right Flemish bargain, where all you can claim Derry down, &c. A while your brave tars, the great prop We cannot say much in praise of the verses which Mr. G. claims as his own. The frequent interlocutory occurrence of Latin quotations may appear rather unusual, but we suppose that the author knows them to be in character. Art. 17. The Stranger's Grave. and Co. 12mo. 6s. Boards. Longman 1823. If we admit that this story is told with interest and pathos, that merit is the basis of a strong objection to it: for it narrates events arising out of a criminal connection between a young man and his niece, and such an occurrence should not be suffered to inspire any gentle feelings. Rarely as, we may hope, such a circumstance actually takes place, why should it be imagined, in order to work it up into a sentimental tale? We grant that the faults of the erring couple are made to form their punishment, and |