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Virginius—one in which he has long gathered many laurels, and displayed much histrionic power. Indeed he has been generally acknowledged to have so completely identified himself with the noble portrait of the Roman given by the poet, that it was not till lately any actor ventured to appear in the same part. There is certainly no play which is better adapted to display the genius of Macready than that of Virginius.' This is to be attributed to the Spartan brevity and power of diction which characterise the whole piece;-every line brings before the mind a new and striking thought, naturally and vigorously expressed. The attention is also powerfully arrested by the frequent application of homespun household phrases to the deepest and most sacred feelings of the heart, or to the most exciting incidents. It is in these simple, delicate, and touching passages that we think Macready preeminently excels. In the wilder bursts of anger and indignation he is excellent also; but nothing can surpass the exquisite simplicity and natural pathos with which he pourtrays the tenderness of a father's love, the depth of a father's grief, and at last the small still flickerings of re-awakened reason and returning affection. It was, therefore, in the two last acts that he chiefly shone, especially in his address to his daughter in the last scene of the fourth act. His burst of wild fury after his child's destruction does not strike us as sufficiently energetic. Indeed, when it is recollected that at this very point his reason is about to be unhinged, whilst, at the same time, the thirst for revenge is struggling for the mastery, the human voice seems scarcely capable of producing the desired effect. As a whole, however, Macready's Virginius is a very perfect piece of acting; and, with such a Virginia as Miss Jarman, we do not envy that man who could witness it without being affected in no common degree."

Next Saturday we shall speak of Macready in propria persona; and, in the meantime, we think it right to express a hope that he and Miss Jarman will be patronised by the Edinburgh public to that extent to which their united talents so well entitle them.

Old Cerberus.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

A BALLAD ABOUT LOVE.

By the Ettrick Shepherd.

I AINCE fell in love wi' a sweet young thing,
A bonny bit flower o' the wilder'd dell;
Her heart was as light as bird on the wing,
And her lip was as ripe as the moorland bell.
She never kend aught o' the ways o' sin,

Though whil's her young heart began to doubt That wi' its ill paths she might fa' in,

But never-she never did find them out.

She oft had heard tell o' love's dear pain,
An' how sae sair as it was to dree;
She tried it and tried it again and again,
But it never could wring a tear frae her ee.
She tried it aince on a mitherless lamb

That lay in her bosom, and fed on her knee; But it turn'd an unpurpose and beggarly ram, And her burly lover she doughtna see.

She tried it neist on a floweret gay,

And O! it was sweet and lovely of hue;
But it droopit its head, an' fadit away,
An' left the lassie to look for a new:
An' aye she cried, O! what shall I do?
Why canna a lassie be happy her lane?

I find my heart maun hae something to loe,
An' I dinna ken where to fix it again.

The laverock loes her musical mate,

The moorcock loes the mottled moorhen, The blackbird lilts it early an' late,

A-wooing his love in the birken glen; The yammering tewit and grey curlew, Hae ilk ane lovers around to flee,

An' please their hearts wi' their whillie-ba-lu,— But there's naething to wheedle or sing to me.

Quo' I, My sweet, my innocent flower,

The matter's as plain as plain can be,
That this heart o' mine it was made for yours,
An' yours was made for loving o' me.
The lassie she lookit me in the face,

An' a tear o' pity was in her ee;
For she thought I had lost a' sense o' grace,
An' every scrap o' fair modestye.

The lassie she thought an' thought again,
An' lookit to heaven if aught she saw;
For she thought that man was connectit wi' şin,
And that love for him was the warst of a'.
She lookit about, but she didna speak,

As lightly she trippit outower the lea;
But there was a smile on her rosy cheek,
That tauld of a secret dear to me.

The lassie gaed hame to her lanely dell,
It never was lovelier to her view;
An' aye she thought an' thought to hersell,
An' the mair she thought she began to rue—
If ilk sweet thing has a mate o' its ain,

Wi' nature's law I e'en maun gang;
I never was made for living my lane-
The laddie was right an' I was wrang.

O Nature! we a' maun yield to thee;

Your regal sway gainsay wha can?
For you made beauty, an' beauty maun be
The polar star o' the heart o' man.
There's beauty in man's commanding frame,

There's beauty in earth, in air, an' sea,

But there never was beauty that tongue could name
Like the smile of love in a fond young ee.
Mount-Benger.

THINGS DIFFICULT OF BELIEF.

From the Spanish of the Bachelor Malventurado.
THAT much a widow'd wife will moan
When her old husband's dead and gone,
I may conceive it;

But that she won't be brisk and gay,
If another offer the next day,
I won't believe it.

That Cloris will repeat to me,
Of all men I adore but thee,
I may conceive it;
But that she has not often sent
To fifty more the compliment,
I won't believe it.

That Celia will accept the choice
Directed by her parent's voice,
I may conceive it;
But that, as soon as it is over,
She won't elect a younger lover,
I won't believe it.

That when she sees her marriage gown, Inez will modestly look down,

I may conceive it;

But that she does not from that hour Resolve to amplify her power,

I won't believe it.

That a kind husband to his wife
Permits each pleasure of this life,
I may conceive it;

But that the man so blind should be,
As not to see what all else see,
I can't believe it.

That in a mirror young coquets
Should study all their traps and nets,
I may conceive it;

But that the mirror, above all,
Should be the object principal,
I won't believe it.

That woman, like a crystal toy,
The slightest zephyr will destroy,
I may conceive it;

But that you may not both cement,
If e'er they get a flaw or rent,
I won't believe it.

That a critic I should not deny To be a better judge than I,

I may conceive it;

But that my Muse should cease from hinting,
That all her rhymes are worth the printing,
I can't believe it.

LITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES.

WE understand that a very superior edition of John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress is in the press. It is to be elegantly printed in Jarge octavo, under a most vigilant revision by the Poet-Laureat, who is to prefix a literary and biographical introduction, for which he has got some very curious and interesting materials. It will be also richly embellished with large wood-cuts, drawn by Harvey, and engraved by the first artists, and with a Portrait of the Author, and two other copper-plates, from splendid designs by Martin.

There is preparing for publication, a Journal of Occurrences and Events during a residence of nearly forty years in the East Indies, from 1790 to 1829, by Colonel James Welch, of the Madras army. In two vols. 8vo, with numerous Engravings.

Fitz of Fitz Ford, an Historical Romance, in 3 vols. illustrative of the History and Antiquities of Devonshire, by Mrs Bray, Author of the "White Hoods," &c. &c., is in the press.

A Second Edition of Lectures on English Poetry, with Historical Tales, and Miscellaneous Poems, being the Literary Remains of the late Henry Neele, author of "The Romance of History," &c. &c., is now in the press; and will shortly be published in one thick vol. post 8vo, with a Portrait.

Our readers are no doubt aware that some remarkable documents, known by the name of the Stuart Papers, were brought to this country from Rome after the death of Cardinal York, the last of the family, and deposited in St James's Palace. The King, we are inform

ed, recently transferred these papers to the hands of Sir Walter Scott, for examination and publication. Sir Walter Scott has availed himself of the assistance of his son-in-law Mr Lockhart, who is now actively employed in arranging the whole.

Robert Montgomery has in the press another poem of a religious character, entitled, “Satan.”

In a short time will be published, Notices of the Brazils in 18289; by the Rev. R. Walsh, LL.D.

A poem, entitled " 1829," from the pen of the author of the Opening of the Sixth Seal, will be published on New-Year's Day.

The Life of Sir Humphry Davy, by Dr Paris, is soon expected. A vision, written during his last illness, in the playful style of Salmonia, has been left by Sir Humphry to his executors, for publication.

Mr Valpy has issued a prospectus for publishing a Family Classical Library, or English Translations of the most valuable Greek and Latin Classics, in monthly volumes, with a biographical sketch of each author, and notes, when necessary, for the purpose of illustration. The series is not expected to exceed forty volumes, and the first will appear on the commencement of the new year.

The Panorama of the Thames, from London to Richmond, exhibiting every object on both Banks of the River, is announced. This work has been the labour of nearly two years. It is upwards of sixty feet in length, and on a scale of sufficient extent to exhibit every building on either shore of the River, in a distinct form. companied by Descriptive Notices of the most remarkable places ; and preceded by a General View of London.

It is ac

One volume of Moore's Life of Byron is printed, and the other is expected to be finished by the end of this year. Each volume extends to about 500 pages quarto.

THE LITERARY UNION.-A Society is now in progress of forma tion, in London, to bear the above title, and having for its object intellectual intercourse and amusement. It is proposed that it shall consist of four or five hundred members, professors and friends of art, literature, and science. Unexceptionable personal character is to be an indispensable requisite to admission; and simplicity and economy are to be held leading principles of the Society, three or four pounds being the utmost annual subscription required. It is intended to procure a house in a central situation; the committee are at present in treaty for the Athenæum Club-house, Waterlooplace, Pall-Mall, where such refreshments as the Society shall decide on shall be furnished, and such publications as they may deem'proper taken. Thomas Campbell, Eq. has been appointed chairman by the committee, who at present hold their meetings at the British Coffee-house, Charing-cross.

LIFE AND SERVICES OF CAPTAIN BEAVER.-Some months ago, we noticed an odd blunder which had occurred in the Monthly Megazine, regarding a sca-song there said to have been written by Beaver, but which is in reality the production of Richard Cumberland, the dramatic writer, and the contemporary of Johnson, Richardson, and Goldsmith. The London Literary Gazette, in reviewing the Life of Beaver (which is edited by Captain W. H. Smyth, R.N.) inserted the song at full length, and praised the wonderful precnaty of talent which it displayed; and the Quarterly Review, the last Num ber of which contains a review of the same work, also inserts part of the song, "which," they remark, "both for its'spirit and dietion, is a most remarkable production for a boy in his fifteenth year." It is somewhat singular, that the editors of three of the principal London periodicals should all have been led into the same error, and all alke ignorant of the fact, which is related in Cumberland's Memoirs, that the song in question was written by him, and not by the deceased Captain. As we are rather admirers of Cumberland, we do not like to see the credit of even a song taken from him, and given to a boy of fifteen years of age! Of course, the primary cause of this blunder is to be attributed to the editor of Beaver's papers, but the literary reviewers, whom we have noted above, might have known better.

Theatrical Gossip.-Mr Elliston, the Manager of the Surrey Theatre, has availed himself of the suggestion made by the Literary Journal regarding Sir Walter Scott's Tragedy in the Keepsake fot 1830. "The House of Aspen" has been produced with great suc cess, and is likely to have a run. It was Mr Elliston who establish ed, seven years ago, in the case of Lord Byron's Marino Faliero, the right of acting any published play.-A clever melo-drama, called "The Brigands," from the pen of Mr J. R. Planche, the author of "Charles XII." and many other popular pieces, has been received with complete success at Drury Lane.-A stupid opera, from the French of Boieldieu, called "The Night before the Wedding, and the Wedding Night," has been all but damned at Covent Garden.- Mis Phillips, the star of Drury Lane, is said to have written a tragedy as well as Miss Kemble, the star of Covent Garden. To write a tragedy is nothing, unless it be also a good tragedy.-Madame Vestris has been performing at Wakefield and other provincial towns.-Miss Smithson is at Carlisle.-Braham has been singing to almost empty houses in Dublin.-De Begnis has taken the Caledonian Theatre, and is to be here by the second week of December.-Miss Paton appeared in Glasgow as Adelaide in the "Haunted Tower," on Thurs day evening. She was to conclude her engagement there last night, and is then, we believe, to return to Edinburgh, but not to appear in public.

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TO OUR CORRESPONDENTS.

THE interesting communication on the subject of Burns shall have a place next week.-" Notices of Eminent Lecturers" will not exactly suit us. The subject is one which requires much tact.-We are afraid we cannot find room for the paper entitled, "I will be an Author."-We are obliged to " Anna;"-she asks a question, the an swer to which we could whisper to herself, but it must not be given here." Proteus" has our thanks.-We had not forgotten "L.” We are not yet quite satisfied that our Correspondent in the neigh bourhood of Dunbar is a poeta natus.-We can scarcely promise to insert the Lines by " W. G.," or those entitled, "The First Love," and "To Mary."-The "Submarine Scene," and the Lines by "W. B." stand over for consideration when we next put on our Ship

pers.

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LITERARY CRITICISM.

Annals of the Peninsular Campaigns, from 1808 to 1814. By the Author of Cyril Thornton. William Blackwood, Edinburgh. 1829. 3 vols. post 8vo. Pp. 388, 366, and 450.

PRICE 6d.

their summits,-of individual prowess and suffering,-bugle-notes floating on the breeze,-and masses of men

glittering in warlike panoply. These vague generalities

are the characteristics of war on a large scale, at all times something that will speak to the heart of human nature and in all places; we want a description of the realitywithout the aid of a commentator. Looking also to the author's management of his narrative, we are of opinion, that while he has on some occasions-for example, in his account of the advance of Sir John Moore, and of the retreat of Soult from Oporto omitted details which were necessary in order to give a clear understanding of the whole; he has on others-frequently in his third volume encumbered his pages with unnecessary notices of sub

paragraphs of a newspaper.

THE author of this work disclaims all intention of entering into competition with the elaborate annals of Dr Southey, or the more scientific labours of Colonel Napier. His object has been to compose "a work which should introduce to the intimate acquaintance of the great body of the people, the events of one of the most memorable periods in the history of their country, and which should diffuse and imprint more widely and more deeply a fit-ordinate movements, as meagre and uninteresting as the ting pride in the great achievements of British arms." In discharging this self-imposed task, he claims credit for fairness and impartiality. He pretends to no peculiar qualifications for his undertaking beyond a knowledge of many important localities, acquired by his having been a sharer in some of the hard-fought battles it is now his part to describe. We, however, will add what his modesty has kept untold-that the high talents displayed in his former works had led the public to look upon him as well qualified to become their historian. Lastly, he admits the possibility of some unimportant errors having erept into his history-of which, we will also say, that none but an ungenerous and carping critic would take advantage. This is an abstract of what the author has stated in his preface to be the object and ambition of his work; and we proceed to judge him by his own standard.

Viewing the book, then, as nothing more than what it pretends to be an introduction to the history of the war in Spain, a first guide to such as purpose studying its annals, or a compendious view for the use of those who rest satisfied with a superficial knowledge of them-we think it is deficient. The object in a popular history of a war is, without entering into a detail of every evolution, or a profound criticism of the operations on both sides, to narrate the principal events in such a manner as to show their mutual bearing on each other, the plans of the leaders, and whether, or in how far, they succeeded. In order to effect this, it is necessary that each individual operation be so described, that the reader obtain a distinct conception of the local relations and successive motions of both parties. If the history of a war come up to this standard—which it may, without having recourse to any tedious and repulsive detail-it will not only be an instructive book, but its truth to nature, the thousand interesting episodes which are inseparable from the thread of its narrative, and the breathless anticipation excited by the continuity of the mighty stream of events, will render it one of high interest. The work now before us does not, in the most distant degree, approximate to this character. The martial movements are described with that degree of vagueness which we find in all accounts of modern warfare, except those of Napoleon and Colonel Napier. It is of no use to give us picturesque accounts of craggy cliffs, with the morning mist rising slowly from

Viewing the work next in regard to its claim to be reckoned "fair and impartial," we fear that there lies in the word "impartiality" a deeper meaning than our author attaches to it. Impartiality does not consist in blaming our friends occasionally, and at times extending praise to our enemies. Impartiality knows neither of friend nor enemy-it probes the conduct of both parties to the bottom, and, conscious of its own rectitude, can brave the world's insinuations, and decide in favour even of those with whom it is linked and affied, when convinced that they are in the right. It is not enough, therefore, that our author should stand, now bowing to a French, now complimenting a British general-now moaning over the excesses of the enemy's troops, now indignant at those perpetrated by our own. He says that he is impartial; but we must investigate the whole tenor of his book, to see whether it does not betray a leaning of which he was not aware-a leaning which can noways impeach his character, but which may oblige us to pause before we assent to his conclusions. Tried by this test, he is found deficient. There is an evident struggle throughout his whole work to praise, more highly than they deserved, the character and conduct of the Spanish nation. He lavishes, in the outset, commendations on the people at large, and on the Guerillas in particular, which his own subsequent statements prove to have been unmerited. He endeavours to raise to a false elevation Palafox and some others, who have long sunk to their real level. He attributes to the French generals the outrages perpetrated by the soldiery, because it could not have ventured on them without their connivance; he exculpates the English commanders, because the soldiery cannot always be restrained-diametrically different inferences from identical data. The plundering of the French soldiers is execrated, the boiling French generals alive, and sawing them between planks by the Spaniards, are passed over in silence, as excesses deeply to be regretted. The truth is, that our author is a partisan, and his evidence is to be received with caution.

Has the book, then, any thing good about it? Much. It is written by a man neither of a very clear nor a very comprehensive mind, and by one who has not studied his subject either long or profoundly; but it is, at the same time, the work of a gentleman and a scholar.

The author

is possessed of an elegant turn of mind, and his heart is in its right place. Such a person cannot go over so fertile a theme without suggesting some thoughts worthy of our attention. For example, we think that, cautiously employed, his knack at recognising what is good in human nature, even when presented in the questionable actions of a degraded populace, might afford a useful lesson to men, who, like Colonel Napier, trained in the school of active duty, have no tolerance for the weakness and inconsistency of the majority.

We not long ago presented our readers with a catalogue raisonnée of some of the principal contributions to the history of the exertions made by this country in behalf of Spanish independence. The present, however, is the first book that has come before us, since the commencement of our critical career, professing to give a complete narrative of that great struggle, and we shall therefore avail ourselves of this opportunity of giving a brief sketch of what seems to us its real character.

The contest between France and England, which commenced shortly after the breaking out of the Revolution in the former country, had changed materially in its outward features at the beginning of the present century; but the animating principle was still the same. A deadly spirit of enmity had been awakened in the two nations, and exaggerated and embittered by reciprocal acts of hostility. Different language had been assumed by each, according to the varying policy of Europe-different pretexts had been held out to justify aggression, but a rooted feeling of rivalry lay at the bottom of the whole. England had fought at one time against democratical principles, at another against a military despotism; France had fought first for equality, and afterwards for universal empire. But whatever were the pretexts, the war, from first to last, was to decide, whether England for herself, or France, either as an independent nation, or represented by and identified with Bonaparte, should have the ascendancy. It is true, that the liberty of Europe depended on the issue of the contest; but it is no less true, that this was the last idea in the minds of the combatants. The enmity was personal—the war could only end in the overthrow of one of the parties.

neath the incubus, and while the rest of Europe continued to advance, Spain sunk slowly back into barbarism. The treasures from its American possessions, which, from the beginning, flowed more into the royal treasury than the national purse, were at first squandered on vain attempts to crush the reformation in other lands, and afterwards, from a variety of causes, dwindled away. At the be ginning of this century, Spain was a poor nation—her populace almost on a par with the savage, except in so far as they were held in check by superstition, or the hand of power. The small number who were possessed of knowledge had acquired it in a foreign school. They had nothing in common with the bulk of the nation. Their information, superficial as it might be, separated them, as by a gulf, from the rest of their countrywomen, and deprived them of all community of opinion and feelings, When the moment of action came, therefore, it found the people, and those who, from their rank, ought to have been their leaders, incapable of understanding each other. This paralysed the nation's efforts. Feeling the natural wish for independence, it was unable to strike one effective blow; it stood by, and saw its battles fought by another power, or, at the most, by its ill-directed efforts impeded the exertion of its friends. Its rooted hatred of the French rendered it impossible that they could ever hold the land but by the sword; but its weak struggles were vain in the clutch of the eagle's talons. Our attention, therefore, is limited to the warlike operations of the French and English. All the efforts of Spain can only be reckoned for one of the subsidiary advantages or disadvantages resulting from the peculiar situation of these parties.

Aided by the imbecility of the Spanish and Portuguese governments, Napoleon succeeded in occupying both coun tries without opposition. His possession of Portugal was too brief, and had too slight an influence on the subse quent struggle, to render it necessary to notice it here. Besides, the plan of operations in that country under Junot was entirely independent of the measures taken to insure the subjection of Spain. The plan of operations in this latter country, as we have it in Napoleon's own words, was the most masterly that human genius has One of the fiercest struggles of this prolonged contest devised. In the course of a few weeks, Spain was inunwas the war in Spain. Napoleon pretended that he had dated with troops, sufficient to overpower all resistance. been forced to subdue the Peninsula by the intrigues of The frontier fortresses were secured, and a line of com Britain seeking to seduce it from his alliance. England munication was kept open from thence to Madrid, from accused him of overthrowing, without offence, an inde- which centre the conquering force was to spread itself, in pendent state. It is of little importance who was the wider and wider circles, in every direction. Care was aggressor. Before the invasion of Spain, that nation was taken for the speedy concentration of the different divivirtually the slave of Napoleon, and forced, in common sions, should any one of them be threatened by a superior with the whole Continent, to co-operate with his ambitious force. The scheme must have been successful, had the ends. The existence of Britain, as a powerful commer-projector superintended its developement in person, but cial country, depended upon loosening his yoke from the he intrusted it to weaker hands. Plunders induced renations. The interest of either coincided with the dic-pulses, and, in the consternation of the moment, Napo tates of their mutual hatred; the uncertain condition of leon's officers deviated from a system, the advantages of the Peninsula held it out as the apple of discord; they which they were unable to appreciate, and retired behind could not avoid joining battle on that field; and where the Ebro. both were alike eager and willing for the fray, it is idle to enquire who struck the first blow. The task of the historian is to describe the nature of the field of battle,

the character and conduct of the combatants.

There were still human hearts beating in Spain, but, viewed as a nation, she was effete. Her union under one crown, conterminous with the final subjugation of the Moors, had caused an increase of power in the sovereign, to be met on the part of the people by a devoted loyalty and a bigoted hatred of all religions but the Catholic, the results of a long war against enemies of a strange faith inhabiting the same land. This coincidence favoured the organization of a despotic temporal power, and the introduction of the most powerful engine ever placed in priestly hands—the Inquisition. A succession of narrow-minded and bigoted princes riveted the union between the throne and the altar, and strengthened their foundations. The spirit of the nation was stifled be

At this moment England prepared to advance into Spain. The British government had been misled by the boasts of the Spaniards, and the statements of its own inefficient agents, into most exaggerated notions of Spanish power and resolution. It was thought sufficient to send an auxiliary army. General Moore advanced at the head of one sufficient to have inspired the Spaniards with confidence had they been men, but insufficient to make head of itself. Scarcely, however, had he cleared the Spanish frontier, when he had reason to suspect (what afterwards proved to be true) that the Spanish armies, as they were called, were utterly ineffective, and the French troops in full advance. Napoleon had put himself at their head, in order to reinstate the order of things which the incapacity of his generals had allowed to be shattered. Moore, although unaware of the whole danger that threatened him, saw that an army so small as his, was not what the circumstances required, and

thought of retreat.

zards by which his adversary so frequently succeeded. But if we are to judge by results, his unchecked prosperity bears testimony to the genius of the English General. If we look to the measures by which that success was secured, we find proofs of a comprehensive mind, a disposition daring and rapid as the lightning, yet with a power of self-control beyond what the calmest tempers betray. The great characteristic of Wellington is intense power-a power which often escapes the gaze of the superficial observer, who is more impressed by the rage of the whirlwind and volcano, than the quiet eternal strength which upholds all nature-a strength which overwhelms the reflecting mind the more, from the awful stillness of its manifestation. The genius of Wellington is essen

Delusive accounts of Spanish armies with which he was to co-operate were brought to him; but in vain—his penetrating judgment saw through the flimsy lie. Still the national honour was to be preserved, which nothing could protect from the slanders of our imbecile allies, but a demonstration that they were men who could not be assisted. By a bold and nicely-calculated movement, Moore advanced sufficiently to place this point beyond a doubt; and then by a retreat which has elicited the admiration of the three greatest commanders of the age, he saved his army-alas! at the expense of his own invaluable life. Napoleon, after re-establishing his power in Spain, again left it to his delegates; and Britain, after receiving a severe lesson, which for a while, however, seemed to add little to her wisdom, had to com-tially practical. He cannot talk brilliantly and fluently mence operations anew.

The origin of the contemptuous tone under which a certain faction seek to hide the malice they bear to the Duke of Wellington, can easily be traced. In the art of war, as in every other, a man of genius gives the ton when he strikes out a new path; Napoleon's system of extensive and rapid combinations had become fashionable in Europe; the parrots could chatter in his language, although they could not do his deeds. In this state of mind, a system like the Duke of Wellington's, conspicuous for a sturdy unpretending sense, was received with hootings. The cry has been kept up by a shoal of second-hand writers-" The Duke owed his victories to good luck." This might have been believed had he gained only one; but an uninterrupted series of victories, filling up three long years, is not so to be accounted for. us look at them.

Let

of art, science, and literature-he does not shine in the
salon or boudoir-he keeps silence while the flimsy orator
sparkles in the festive hall, through the whole range of
human knowledge; but he can do something better,-he
can lead an army to assured conquest, and he can hold
the helm of state amid the dashing storms of faction, as
coolly as others sail over a summer sea.
He is the con-
centration and ideal of the English character. He could
enjoy himself had fate doomed him to be a private gen-
tleman; he moves unmanacled by greatness on the giddy
ridge of state. We have penned this panegyric while he
is in power: we are ready to abide by it should he be
found to-morrow in domestic retirement.

The Quarterly Review. No. LXXXII. November 1829.
The Edinburgh Review. No. XCIX. October 1829.

:

BOTH of these are good numbers of their respective works the new Editor of the Edinburgh has made a creditable debut. As they come into collision in more points than one, we take the liberty of criticising both at

once.

The more immediately political part we shall dismiss very briefly. It consists, on the part of the Quarterly, in an exposition of the state of our Finances, and dissertations on the Ottoman Empire, the co-operatives, and paupers-the last of which is worthy of particular attention. The Edinburgh treats us, on its part, to an exposé of the French Commercial System; and a brief article on the New French Ministry, from which we infer that this journal's inveterate habits of opposition are very far from being extinct.

When the Duke landed in Portugal, the French were again the sovereign power in Spain. The executive was in their hands, and the greater part of the population had sunk into a despairing acquiescence. In Portugal, Soult had thrown out his advanced guard beyond the Douro. Victor threatened the southern frontier. With a rapidity and enterprise that displayed the whole man, the English leader drove back the former into Galicia, and returned to co-operate with the Spanish General Cuesta against the latter. On his advance, he found his allies a useless encumbrance, and his enemies too powerful and concentrated to be overthrown by the force under his command. He struck them one stunning blow at Talavera, and fell back upon the Portuguese frontiers to wait for a better opportunity. Circumstances obliged him to fall still farther back within the lines of Torres The controversial matter we dismiss with nearly equal Vedras, but this retreat was deeply planned, and had all brevity. The Quarterly contains a note called forth by the majestic port of victory. With the retreat of the certain remonstratory letters published by Sir R. Donkin, pursuing French army, he resumed his post on the fron- appealing against the Reviewer's treatment of his theory on tier, and there, in the face of two armies, so situated that the course of the Niger. The gallant knight would have a few days would have brought their combined and far behaved more wisely had he remained quiet. The Edinsuperior force to bear upon him, he took the two strong burgh contains a continuation of its controversy with the fortresses of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajos, with a celerity Westminster. We would humbly represent to these pugthat confounded his opponents. He then advanced to nacious gentlemen, that as they have now got all their Salamanca, and again struck down the armies of France arguments exhausted, and have of late only repeated in the open field. Even in the full tide of victory, not- what they had said before, the public are beginning to withstanding the jeers of his foes, and the popular out-get rather tired of the dispute. The question seems now cry at home, he had the self-command to retreat-but it to be which of the parties is the cleverest fellow, and has was only, after concentrating his forces by a momentary delay, and waiting the relaxation of his enemy's strength, again to float forward on the broad wave of success, which bore him from battle to siege, and from one victory to another, far into the heart of France.

In casting our eyes back upon these transactions, we confess that they want the dazzle of Napoleon's victories; but do they, therefore, display less genius? As delegate of another's power, Wellington had respects to observe which the Emperor never dreamt of. As one who came not to make himself master of Spain, but to free it from a foreign foe, Wellington's object was to expel the intruders, not to organise a force for retaining the country in his own hands. With a limited strength at his disposal, and responsible for its safety, he dared not run the ha

the most pertinacity-a matter of no earthly interest to any but themselves. If the fight is kept up, we must raise a literary posse comitatus to apprehend and bind the combatants over to keep the peace; and if all rational means fail, we must resort to a method we have seen employed successfully in the case of fighting dogs-throttle them till they let go their hold, and then shut them up in separate kennels.

Both the Edinburgh and Quarterly have devoted a con.. siderable space in the numbers before us to America; the former to its literature, the latter its society. Both are filled with prejudice and misrepresentations, unintentional, we trust and believe. With respect to the Quarterly, we are not so much surprised. Its supporters are in every thing so diametrically opposed to America, that

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